Death Star Encounter
by LPK9
Summary: AU! The Death Star arrives in the Alderaan system later than in a New Hope, which means the Millennium Falcon and its occupants manage to land on Alderaan, consult with the Organas, and launch a different plan to save the princess. There are other profound differences from canon, which will become clear as you read. Mostly crack, with some angst mixed in.
1. Chapter 1

_I don't own Star Wars in any way._

 _The Death Star_

 _In orbit around Alderaan_

Darth Vader strode down the corridor leading to the command center of the Death Star.

Directly in front of him marched the tiny form of Princess Leia Organa of Alderaan, her posture still regal in spite of her bonds, her spirit still rebellious in spite of the hours of interrogation at his hands.

In front of her, two black clad guards led the way.

(Rather an insult, that. As if he couldn't handle this girl on his own. But there were _rules_ on the Death Star about prisoner transfers, and it wasn't worth the headache of fighting them, no matter how stupid they were.)

The guards turned a corner, Princess Leia turned a corner, Darth Vader turned a corner, and then all halted in astonishment.

Directly in front of the small group was a short, slight young man, blond, blue eyed, dressed in what appeared to be Tatooine desert attire.

Behind the youth, a few meters down the corridor, stood a roguish looking dark haired man wearing, among other things, Corellian bloodstripes.

And beside him stood a giant Wookiee.

Behind them, the blast doors were shut tight. Based on the blinking red lights, one of these idiots had disabled the locking mechanism.

The Dark Lord shook his head slightly, incredulous at these morons' profound stupidity. One did not deliberately lock oneself in with Darth Vader, not if you had more than a few brain cells functioning.

Vader twitched irritably even as the two guards, who had apparently been too flummoxed to react quickly, finally managed to lift their blasters and start firing.

Here things actually got interesting, because the young man promptly lit a lightsaber (the blade was blue, Vader noted) and successfully deflected the bolts.

A moment later, the boy lifted his left hand and gestured toward first one and then the other guard.

Both, to Vader's surprise and astonishment, promptly hurled themselves into the wall and then slid to the floor, either unconscious or dead.

And as if all this wasn't surprising enough, the huge, enormous, supernova of the youth's Force presence suddenly bloomed in Vader's consciousness.

A smile crossed the hidden, and scarred, face. The last days, weeks, and months had been quite incredibly dull. To have a strong, hostile Force sensitive pop up on the Death Star of all places was more than Vader had hoped for.

With his left hand, he shoved Leia Organa against the wall (though not hard enough to do damage), even as he lit his red lightsaber with his right hand. He would not demean himself by using her as a shield, or a hostage. He was a warrior. As for the young man, it remained to be seen who, or what, he was.

He waited for the child to attack.

But the youth did _not_ attack. The blue eyes gazed, then grew wide, and then ...

"You are _ridiculously_ tall!"

Vader blinked. What?

"That is hardly relevant, young one," he hissed menacingly, stepping forward.

(Absently, he noted that Organa had scurried past the young man and was now having her manacles removed by the Corellian.)

The boy shook his head, then scowled.

"It's just not fair," he responded petulantly. "Why did I have to be short like my mother?"

Vader found himself biting his inner cheek in vexation. He had hoped for an interesting duel as it had been years since he'd had even a moderate challenge. But apparently this child was insane.

"Your mother?" he repeated wearily.

"Yes, you know, Padme Naberrie Amidala Skywalker?" the boy said, raising his eyebrows. "Your _wife_?"

There was a squeak of shock from Leia Organa and every muscle in Vader's body, mechanical and biological alike, froze incredulously.

A part of him was full of rage, another part hurt, another part confusion, another part longing, another part blank stupidity.

After a long minute ticked by ...

"I'm afraid you are mistaken," he heard himself say numbly. Not for the first time, he was thankful for the vocoder. His voice was deep and intimidating as usual, not hurt, not ... hopeful ...

"No, _you_ are," the boy said boldly. "My name is Luke Skywalker. I am your son. I was born a few hours after you and Ben Kenobi fought on Mustafar and you were burned by lava and all that. My mother tragically died in childbirth. I was born early but healthy, as was my twin. You've just been wrong for 19 years about what happened back then. But then, you are wrong about a crazy number of things."

Darth Vader found so many thoughts jostling around that he didn't even know where to start. What to think. And certainly not what to do.

But one thing was certain, the Force was screaming in his mind that this was truth. This boy, incredibly enough, unbelievably enough, impossibly enough, was his son.

His son was alive. Alive …

He turned off his red blade, moved forward a meter, even as the boy, apparently more bold than sensible, turned off his own lightsaber.

(Absently, Vader realized the saber was ... Anakin Skywalker's, lost at Mustafar.)

He reached out a gauntleted hand and touched the boy's cheek.

Again, indicating he was either extremely courageous or ridiculously optimistic, Luke Skywalker didn't flinch.

"My son," Vader murmured softly, even reverently.

Pause.

"Wait. A twin?"

Luke nodded insouciantly, and turned to look behind him.

"Yeah, incredibly enough, Princess Leia is my twin sister and your biological daughter," he said matter of factly.

There was another gasp of astonishment from the Princess, and Vader froze again, reached out with the Force, this time in horror.

" _Yes, she is your daughter_ ," the Force whispered to him. The Force had long had a tiresome habit of appearing in his mind's eye in sentient form: often as Palpatine, sometimes as Padme, sometimes as his mother, at least once as Gardulla the Hutt (ugh.) Now the Force appeared as the aged, and irritating, Master Yoda – his green, wispy ears drooping; his eyes filled with gloomy disapproval.

"Just who in the stars and galaxies are you? And how dare you so much as suggest that I am that ... that black behemoth's ..." Organa snarled, then stopped, her fine eyes narrowing.

"I see," she said softly. "This is some kind of stupid Imperial trick, though it really is asinine. You couldn't get the Rebel base from me through _typical_ means, and now you're ... you're ..."

Her brow furrowed, "No, wait. It's all just too stupid. You must be insane or something."

The boy (Luke) looked at her, those blue, expressive eyes apologetic, "I apologize. That was not a great way to tell you, I know. But I figured if he knows you are his daughter, he probably won't cut you in half absentmindedly."

"I am Princess Leia Organa," the girl responded, her eyes flashing (with Padme's fire, Vader realized as his stomach suddenly clenched in pain), "Daughter of Alderaan. Daughter of Bail and Breha Organa..."

"So you didn't know you were adopted?" Luke asked compassionately.

She froze, a muscle in her right cheek twitching.

"I see you did," the boy said quietly. "But you didn't know the truth about your parentage."

"It is not the truth," she shouted aloud. "It is not true that Lord Darth Vader ..."

(Her voice contained such venom that the Dark Lord flinched slightly.)

"That the man who tortured me for hours is my biological father. It is _not true_."

Luke gasped and paled, then turned to his father.

"You tortured her? You tortured my sister?"

"That really is cruddy," the Corellian said, speaking for the first time, "to torture your own daughter."

There was a roar from the Wookiee, and the man spoke again with a nod, "Crass, even."

"I did not know ..." Vader said in what even he was willing to admit was a feeble voice.

"Lame," the Corellian said with a disapproving frown.

"I. Am. Not. His. Daughter!" Organa snapped.

Luke suddenly jerked and gestured to the human male, "Open the door, Han."

The man promptly entered some kind of code and the door slid open to reveal ...

"Obi-Wan Kenobi!" Vader bellowed, starting forward even as his sword sprang to life.

To his astonishment, his son promptly lit his own sword and blocked his way.

"No, no, no, no, no," the boy said. "No fighting in a narrow corridor with both your kids in the way. It's just not going to work. I'm not the greatest fighter in the galaxy but I know it's best to have the right environment for fighting, like on floating rocks in lava or something ..."

"Obi-Wan Kenobi?" Leia interrupted, gazing at the old man in the robes as if Nabooian diamonds had suddenly rained down on her from above. "I recognize you from your holo! What is going on here? Who is this crazy person claiming to be ..."

"Your brother?" Obi-Wan asked, even as he placed a gentle arm around the girl. "He _is_ your twin brother, Princess. I know that's a shock, but Luke's a fine young man. Your father is a mess, I'm afraid, physically, emotionally, and spiritually."

"And who is responsible for my physical form, old man," Vader inquired rigidly, his hands clenched.

Leia wasn't listening to him. Her face was pale, her pupils dilated, "It can't ... it can't be. He tortured me, Obi-Wan. He ripped into my mind to try to find the Rebel base ..."

Kenobi turned a horrified gaze on Vader, "Anakin, really, you tortured your own daughter? Disgusting."

"I didn't know!" he howled indignantly, only to be drowned out by a chorus of roars and censorious mutterings from the males in the corridor.

To his startled relief, Leia Organa broke into this litany of verbal criticism.

"Never mind all that," she said firmly, "it still seems impossible, the whole family thing, but whatever. Perhaps you're all Imperials trying to mess with my mind, though that doesn't feel right to me, and I've learned to trust my feelings. Now what?"

"We're here to rescue you, Leia," Luke said, bestowing a loving smile on his newly met twin.

"And what about him?" she demanded, pointing a disdainful figure at Vader. "Where does he fit in to this grand escape plan of yours?"

The boy turned hopeful eyes on Vader's mask. The Dark Lord felt a wave of dizziness. The face was much like that of the young Anakin Skywalker, but the pleading look was the very image of Padme's expression when she really wanted something from him.

(He had a dim, painful memory of a misadventure in the kitchen when she had mentioned, pathetically, how long it had been since she'd eaten good Nabooian crabs. The apartment had required a week of clean up after the crabs in question caught fire and the sprinklers came on.)

"Maybe he will let us go?" the boy asked expectantly.

Vader shook himself out of his bewilderment, even as he lit his lightsaber.

"No, you will stay here with me, both of you," he said firmly, then winced inwardly as a wave of fear emanated from the princess.

"I do not wish to harm you but you cannot leave," he continued.

Belatedly, he pressed a button, summoning troops to his aid. He then added, "And as for Obi-Wan, he will die at my hands. The last time we met, I was but the learner. Now I am the master, Kenobi."

Kenobi lifted a thoughtful eyebrow, "Well, there is a tiny problem with that, Anakin. You see, I just stormed in and killed Tarkin and miscellaneous officers and men and planted several powerful bombs in the Death Star command center. So yes, you can loom there and keep us from leaving this corridor until your men arrive as reinforcements, but in … two minutes the command center will explode, and this corridor with it. You might survive. The twins, and I, will not."

"What?" the Corellian sputtered in outrage, "That was not part of the plan, old man! You didn't pay me to die!"

Kenobi crossed his arms and glared at Vader, who glared back for a long moment, before looking at his children.

Luke looked pathetic and sad, which tore at his heart.

And Leia. Precious, difficult, stubborn Leia. She just seemed resigned.

Which was almost worse.

The seconds ticked by.

He couldn't do it.

"Come!" he snapped, turning so quickly his cloak snapped, "I will lead you to safety."

He walked rapidly, then more rapidly, and was relieved to sense his children and their companions following behind him.

Big bombs, his former master claimed. How much destruction were they talking?

They needed to get through at least two more sets of blast doors.

How much time was left?

Unhelpfully, a squad of troopers suddenly appeared ahead of him in the corridor.

The officer halted, flung a nervous hand to his head, and then was almost bowled over by the Dark Lord striding toward him.

"Leave this area," the Sith snapped, "There will be a massive explosion in …"

"60 seconds!" Kenobi called from behind him.

The officer turned pale, turned tail, and nearly ran, with the troopers in anxious pursuit.

Through one blast door.

"45 seconds," Obi-Wan said, his voice faint from shortness of breath.

(Obi-Wan did look old. At least the last 20 years hadn't treated him particularly well either!)

Second blast doors!

He waited for Kenobi, the Wookiee, the Corellian to come through, his mind reeling in terror, and finally his son and daughter bolted through the door, hand in hand.

"Get down," the Dark Lord roared, even as he reached out with the Force to close the doors.

The slid shut and one second later …

KA-BOOM!

The corridor shook, the blast doors bent outward, then blew open, fueled by the intensity of the explosion. Fire licked out of the passageway, and Vader flung himself to one side, using the Force to create shields to protect his children.

On the other side of the door, he could barely see Kenobi, the Wookiee, and the Wookiee's companion retreating from the terrifying heat.

Alarms began sounding throughout the massive battle station and …

The sprinklers came on, and with it, the smell of burnt Nabooian crab impinged on Vader's nasal passages.

(That wasn't right, he realized dimly. He must connect sprinklers with burnt crab now thanks to his cooking disaster so many years ago. There were all kinds of psychological conclusions he could draw from this, but he didn't have time to analyze them now.)

Suddenly filled with terror, he turned to look at the twins. They were curled up on the floor, Luke's body protecting his sister's slight form.

He reached out with the Force. Please, please let them be unharmed …

And then he relaxed slightly as both young people rolled cautiously to their feet. The water from above showered both young faces and forms, and for the first time, Leia Organa smiled.

He stilled. How could he have missed how much … how much … like Padme …

Vader allowed his eyes to close, his shoulders to sag slightly.

At least they were safe.

There was the sudden, startling sound of a lightsaber igniting. Before the Dark Lord could react, the blue laser sword, held by his son, swiped through his prosthetic legs at the knee. Stunned, Darth Vader stood for one disbelieving moment, then ignominiously fell to the ground, his lower legs in one direction, his remaining parts in the other direction.

"I'm sorry," Luke said, turning off his saber, "That really was unkind. But we have to leave and I know you won't let us go."

Kenobi and his two companions approached now. Vader managed to pull himself vertical with the Force and stand, wavering slightly, on his prosthetic stumps. He turned his lightsaber on, unsteady but determined. This would likely be his end, as he couldn't fight well without feet. But he would not lie down and die like a blobby Hutt.

Obi-Wan stared at him, now slightly taller than he was. The old face looked sad, even as his old master turned on his own saber.

"No you don't, Obi-Wan," Luke said indignantly, pushing his way forward and interposing his slight form between the two enemies, "you aren't killing my father."

(A thrill of shock and delight raced through Vader's bewildered mind. Father. He was a father!)

"He needs to die, Luke," Kenobi said with a sorrowful expression.

"Then you go through me," the boy said determinedly.

There was a long pause, and then the old Jedi sighed and turned off his saber.

"Ok, fine. You Skywalkers are so stubborn. Let's get out of here."

"No argument from me, Old Man," the Corellian muttered.

Organa stared at the Sith Lord (still slightly taller than she), her mouth moving slightly, and then she too sighed and glanced at her rescuers.

"Any idea which way to the nearest hanger?"

The Wookiee roared and set off confidently, with the man called "Han", and the princess in pursuit.

Kenobi waited, his eyes on the boy, but Luke gestured, "Go on, Ben. I'll be along really soon."

The Jedi shook his head slightly, then turned and strode away.

Luke turned around and stepped boldly forward, throwing his arms around the stunned Sith Lord, who quickly turned off his saber to avoid taking a limb off his son accidentally.

"Again, I'm really sorry," the boy murmured softly into his mechanically augmented ear, "but Leia's been through the mill and it wouldn't be right to lock her up here. You know?"

The boy stepped back, "I know you're probably mad at me, but do you mind if I holocall you sometime?"

Vader felt a smile curve his lips, "I would be delighted, my son. I would welcome any communication, at any time. Contact me at my castle on Mustafar, and if I'm not there my servants will forward your call."

Luke looked startled, then delighted, "Ok, Father. I love you and I'll talk to you soon."

Darth Vader watched as his son ran off down the corridor, chasing his companions.

And then he lay back on the floor, created a shield in the Force to keep from getting wetter, and waited for Imperial help to arrive.

(Which might take a while, with all the smoke and alarms and chaos.)

A blissful smile crossed his face.

His children were alive.

 _Author Note: I am not sure if this is a one shot or not. Luke has had way more training than in canon, and obviously learned about Vader way earlier. The Lars are alive out there somewhere. Thank you to my wonderful editor and husband who, as usual, caught plenty of errors._


	2. Chapter 2

_Darth Vader's Palace_

 _Mustafar_

 _6 weeks later_

Darth Vader, clad only in black trunks, hung silently, with his eyes closed, in a giant tube of specially formulated bacta.

It was, in a way, a pleasant experience. He felt weightless in the tank, whereas his armor weighed so many kilos that he often felt like a lumbering tauntaun while menacingly striding around his Star Destroyer.

Furthermore, while in the bacta he had no responsibilities. He was not ... helpless, exactly, since he was one of the two strongest Force users in the galaxy, but he was admittedly limited without arms or legs. Sidious would not expect him to single handedly take on a Rebel outpost, or defeat two or three or four hostile Force users in the next fifteen minutes. For that matter, he couldn't exactly breathe well outside the tank, so if he was forced to defend himself right now, it could well be a tricky business.

Fortunately, he was in his own castle on Mustafar. Defenses were strong, and few even knew of the fortress's existence anyway. So he was safe enough.

His mind turned, rather sluggishly, toward his current pantheon of responsibilities and worries. Vader had never minded hard work, had even thrived on it, but there were times when the weight of his role in the galaxy dragged him down. And now, with the knowledge of his twin children (mercifully unknown by Palpatine, at least as far as he was aware), the burden was even heavier. He often found himself thinking frantically, in circles. How could he kill Sidious? How could he keep the children safe? How could he make up to his daughter for those horrible hours in that horrible cell on that horrible Death Star?

At least the horrible Death Star in question had been tidily blown up by the Rebellion two weeks before. But that brought about its own share of concerns, because Vader was quite certain that Luke had fired the killing shot. Not that the younger Sith had been there; his injuries on the Death Star after the explosion and subsequent sprinkler shower had been fairly severe and he'd been recovering here on Mustafar for the last six weeks. But it had been a nearly impossible shot and given how strong the boy was in the Force, it could well have been Luke.

(For a brief moment, an image filled his mind's eye – of the cockpit of an ... an X-wing! Speeding down a trench at incredible speed ...)

And if Luke had destroyed the Death Star, Palpatine could find out that _his son_ was alive at any moment. Sidious had been ridiculously angry when his toy planet destroyer had been blown up, and had placed a gigantic bounty on the currently unknown pilot's name.

Vader had his own bounty hunters searching for his son, and had provided them with additional information which would aid their search. But still ... it was hard not to worry about the boy.

There was a soft ding, indicating it was time for Vader's bacta bath to end.

With a soft groan, he opened his eyes.

And then he started dramatically. For on the other side of the transparisteel tube, only a meter away, stood Luke, eyes wide open in apparent shock.

At that moment, the boy's Force presence, which Luke had obviously been shielding with great skill, burst into supernova radiance.

Vader's brain, which had been sluggish enough, froze. What was Luke doing here? How did he get here? Was he here now to kill his father? Had he heard too many horror stories of Vader's homicidal actions and decided to finish his sire off himself?

Luke's eyes moved from his father's head down to his torso, to his severed arms, and finally to his severed legs. And then back up to Vader's face.

The youth's mouth moved, but the combination of sludgy bacta and damaged hearing from his lava encounter 19 years prior meant Vader couldn't hear a thing. In addition to being flummoxed by Luke's sudden appearance, he was also incredibly frustrated.

Luke apparently picked that up from either the Force or his father's expression, because the boy pointed a finger at his own chest, then pointed toward Vader's recovery room, then gave his father a thumb's up along with a tremulous smile.

And then, while Vader watched in bemusement, the boy strode into the recovery room and closed the door.

Darth Vader broke a record for getting out of the bacta tank and into his armor.

He stormed into the next door office and then stopped in stunned disbelief. Luke was seated on his own personal desk, his brow furrowed in irritation. Next to him, with twin lightsabers in both hands, was ... was ...

"Tano!" Vader said in astonishment.

Tano turned toward him, her montrals shifting in clear anger, her eyes blazing, "Vader."

Luke smiled, hopped off the desk and walked boldly over to his father. He wrapped his arms around the cyborg's broad chest, then stepped back to look up at his sire's mask.

Suddenly, all three started to talk.

"Father, you are a mess."

"Luke, are you out of your mind? Don't get so close to him!"

"Why is Tano here?"

And then they all stopped talking just as abruptly.

Luke stepped back a meter and then sighed dramatically, "Ahsoka is here because she stowed away on Dengar's ship ..."

"Because I thought you had been captured, Luke," Ahsoka riposted angrily, "I had no idea you were actually insane enough ..."

"I had the situation under control, Ahsoka, and given that you're flashing death ray eyes at my father, I have to say that ..."

"He's not safe, Luke. Not. Safe. What would Kenobi think ...?"

"I suggest that you don't tell him then ..."

"Stop, both of you," Vader ordered slightly more loudly than was his wont.

Both turned vaguely surprised faces at him, like they had forgotten he was there.

"Luke, how did you get here?" he demanded.

The youth raised his eyebrows a little, and answered readily enough, "I just wanted to see you, and you said I could call so I figured you wouldn't mind if I dropped by. Then this bounty hunter by the name of Dengar, a human from Corellia ..."

"I know him," Vader interrupted curtly.

"Ok, well, he tracked me down in a bar ... somewhere, not that I was drinking mind you, 'cause I'm kind of young to be into the hard liquor. Anyway, he found out from an informant that I was someone in the Alliance ..."

"Luke, you should not be telling him this," Tano snapped angrily.

Vader turned and lifted a menacing finger, "You are here in my castle on my sufferance, Tano. Do not interrupt my son again."

The shoulders twitched irritably, as did the montrals, but the Togruta lapsed into reluctant silence.

Luke rolled his eyes slightly, apparently at both of his elders, and continued his story, "So anyway, I kind of convinced him that I had valuable info about the destruction of the Death Star and that he should take me here to see you. So he tied me up and dragged me aboard his ship. But it turned out Ahsoka was playing nanny and she stowed away on board and then she killed Dengar in hyperspace but we were all set up to land here with official codes so yeah, we landed here and snuck on in. Ahsoka didn't want me to, but I insisted."

Vader turned to his former padawan, vaguely surprised that she wasn't literally steaming at this point.

"Another era, another Skywalker," he commented smugly.

To his surprise, this comment didn't cause outrage, but rather an arrested, even stunned, expression.

"Do you still think of yourself as Anakin Skywalker, Lord Vader?" she inquired softly, her blue eyes thoughtful.

The Sith froze.

After a long pause, he said in a measured tone, "No, of course not. I am merely ... merely ..."

Luke, thankfully, spoke up, "We can discuss your personal and existential crisis at another time. Father, I had no idea what a physical mess you are! If you like, the next time I see Obi-Wan I'll sock him in the eye. He should never have left you to burn like that. Can't anything be done to heal you?"

The reality that his son had seen his scars, his amputations, his battered body, should have provoked both anger and self-consciousness.

But the love and concern in those blue eyes washed away such feelings, leaving only regret.

"No, my son," he responded softly, "nothing can be done. The bacta provides temporary relief and slight external healing, but the more serious injuries are permanent."

The child looked so downhearted, so distressed, that he quickly and uncomfortably changed the subject.

"Much as I enjoy seeing you, Son, I must agree with Tano that this was a very risky operation on your part. Who saw you come into this area of my castle?"

"Ah, no one who noticed, if you get my drift."

Vader glanced at Ahsoka, who sighed, "Unlike you, he's entirely capable of walking around unnoticed, Vader. Those who saw us were gently redirected with the Force. I doubt they remember us at all."

The Dark Lord relaxed slightly, even as he turned back to Luke, "And ... and how is your sister?"

Luke's expressive face grew sad, "Well, she's ... ah ... Ok. Still really mad at you. Physically she's recovered now, and I appreciate the counselor droids, not to mention the stuffed animals. She chose a bantha."

The Sith's throat grew even dryer than usual.

"I'm afraid I do not know what you are referring to," he said stiffly.

The boy rolled his eyes again (who did that, and lived?), even as he strode forward to pat his father gently on one giant arm, "Father, please. A couple of pilots suddenly decide to defect to the Alliance with a load of counselor droids and a bunch of cute stuffed animals which are part of the counseling protocol? It wasn't too hard to figure out."

Vader opened his mouth to deny it, changed his mind, and blurted out, "Does your sister know that I ... uh ...?"

Luke shook his head, "No. I scoped out the pilots pretty carefully and it is obvious they genuinely want to be with us, so we just took the gift as intended. I'll admit I chuckled a bit that Leia chose a bantha because they are stinky beasts. I took a rancor. They're probably stinky too, but I have no personal knowledge."

Vader cringed slightly, "And I trust you never will, Son. They are most dangerous beasts."

"But the plush rancor is adorable. We've had a couple of counseling sessions where we talk to each other through the plushes. It helps us process our feelings better, the counselor droid says. I don't know if he is right or not. Usually Leia's bantha starts attacking my rancor, which is kind of silly because banthas are a lot of things but not very aggressive ..."

"Someone's coming!" Ahsoka suddenly said, looking at the door.

Vader focused on the door in surprise. Sure enough, his major domo was approaching the door. He had been so intent on his son that he hadn't noticed.

He turned back and was astonished to see both Ahsoka and Luke disappearing into a large storage closet at the side of the room. Vader was briefly concerned that they wouldn't fit, but the door shut easily. Being small had its advantages.

Raising himself to his full height, Vader planted his feet firmly, grabbed a holopad, randomly opened an article about the danger of elderly shaak meat on the intestinal tracks of Imperial stormtroopers, and gestured imperiously towards the door.

The door slid open, and his meek servant, clad in black, approached with a bowed head.

Vader ignored him for a long moment, then looked up, "Yes?"

The man lowered his head even more, even as he spoke nervously, "My lord, I fear we have a security breach. A ship owned by a bounty hunter, by the name of Dengar, landed within the last hour. As no one left the ship, an investigation was mounted. We discovered the ship empty, but no one recalls seeing the individual exit the landing pad."

Vader hesitated, then nodded, "Very well. Order Squad 3 to conduct a search for the bounty hunter, but do not sound the general alarm."

"As you wish, my Lord."

The man withdrew, and a few seconds later, Luke and Ahsoka popped out of the closet, Luke complaining vociferously.

"See, you shouldn't have killed him, Ahsoka! If we'd just knocked him out, they'd have found him unconscious and thought he was drinking off too many Corellian brandies. But no, you had to kill him and then throw him out the airlock!"

"The last thing we needed was Dengar alive, Luke. He was a wily one, and my job is to protect you, whether you like it or not!"

"And I am pleased with that, Ahsoka Tano," Vader interpolated, to the surprise of the two verbal combatants.

He smiled slightly under his mask, "It would appear my son is in need of a loyal bodyguard, Snips."

The Togruta jerked at his use of her old nickname, but Luke interrupted any retort by striding forward boldly and putting both his hands on his father's large, mechanized chest.

"So I assume that given the mechanized respirations, your lungs are a disaster?" the boy demanded.

Vader nodded with a mixture of self-consciousness and frustration. How he hated his dependence on the suit for his bodily functions, for breathing.

"Yes, my son," he said quietly, "As I told you before, nothing can be done."

Luke frowned irritably, "Ben says I'm pretty good at Force assisted healing. I'm going to work on your lungs a bit. So long as that is Ok with you?"

Vader shook his head, simultaneously touched and sorrowful, "Luke, the damage is too serious. It is pointless."

An extremely stubborn expression appeared on Luke's face, his look so much like a hyperfocused Padme that Vader swallowed convulsively.

"So you won't even let me try?" the boy demanded.

Vader breathed through four cycles.

"You may try, but, Son, it really ..."

"Is useless, I know," Luke grumbled back, even as he placed his hands on his father's broad chest.

"Just relax," he ordered, even as he closed his blue eyes.

Vader tried to relax. Luke seemed like a confident person, and would probably be moderately at peace with failure. And this gave the Dark Lord the opportunity to study Luke's face up close. The child looked so much like the youthful Anakin that it was startling.

A strange feeling stirred in his chest. How much he had missed. How many years of babyhood and toddlerhood and early spaceflights and ...

No wait, that feeling in his chest was ...

Was ...

Frowning, he used the Force to switch on an external monitor on his right arm which showed his blood oxygen saturation.

It never ever went above 95%.

But now, he watched incredulously as it hovered at 96%, then hit 97% ...

Luke gasped and opened his eyes, dropping his arms.

"I'm sorry," he said apologetically, "that's worn me out. Yeah, your lungs are bad."

Vader stared at the red figures incredulously, "It's never been ... never been this high in 19 years, Son. You are truly ... truly ..."

"Gifted?" Tano demanded in a snarky tone. "Not too surprising, given whose son he is."

Luke blushed a little, even as he looked sad, "I wish I could do more. Now if Leia helped me I really could get a lot done. We work really well together in the Force."

"That will be the day," Ahsoka said, with a mixture of anger and sorrow.

"I would never ask that of your sister," Vader responded, his throat tightening, "after what I did to her."

"Yeah," Luke said with a downcast look, and then he lifted his head determinedly. "I'm still not fully trained so maybe when I have more practice I can do more."

There was a beep, and Vader, with a gesture of his hand, turned on his com, "Yes?"

The filtered voice of the head of his security detail spoke, "My Lord, the Emperor orders you to make contact with him."

The Dark Lord hesitated briefly, "Very well."

He turned off the com and gazed at his son and Ahsoka, "You must go, now."

Luke looked slightly surprised, then grateful, "Ok. Do you know what Old Wrinkles wants?"

The Dark Lord shook his head, "No, but he may have felt that disturbance in the Force when you partially healed my lungs. You must leave. I will order my troops to conduct a search in the east wing of the palace, which will give you a free path back to Dengar's ship."

"Ok," Luke said with a tremulous smile. "Thank you. I love you, Father."

The Sith hesitated just briefly, then stepped forward to gently encircle his son with his strong arms, "And I love you too, Luke."

 _Author Note: I love writing crack because it doesn't have to make too much sense. So yeah, just suspend your disbelief about anything that seems totally illogical! Thanks to my wonderful husband for editing and adding vibrant details._


	3. Chapter 3

_The Bridge_

 _The_ Executor

 _In orbit around Kuat_

 _3 months later_

Darth Vader stood staring out the front viewscreen of the bridge as Admiral Piett continued his report.

"Either pirates, or the Rebel Alliance, have been capturing shipments of tydirium ore at 50% above the usual rate in the last several months, my Lord, which is indeed a substantial increase. Given the Kuat shipyards need tydirium for the manufacture of phrik, this is a substantial concern."

The Sith glanced at his admiral, "What do you suggest, Piett?"

"I believe, my Lord ..." the man began hesitantly, and then stopped when Vader suddenly whipped around suddenly to stare at the young ensign who had appeared on the bridge behind them both.

"Ensign?" Piett demanded with a mixture of anger and worry. "What is the meaning of this interruption?"

The ensign, a young man with dark blond hair and blue eyes, saluted even as his face grew apologetic, "I'm sorry to interrupt you, my Lord, Admiral. Lord Vader, you ordered that you be informed when your personal decorators completed phase 1 in your quarters."

There was a long pause, before the Sith repeated in a measured tone, "My personal decorators."

"Yes, my Lord," the youth responded respectfully, his face amazingly calm. Piett, on the other hand, was shaking surreptitiously in his boots. This kid was going to get killed, right here, right now, on the bridge. Personal decorators? Lord Vader would not ...

"Very well, Ensign. I will accompany you now," Vader said.

He turned to Piett so quickly that the admiral barely got his hanging mouth closed, "Admiral, write a report on potential solutions for the loss of tydirium ore shipments in Hutt space."

"Yes, my Lord."

Piett stared openly as Vader accompanied the slight young ensign off the bridge.

Personal decorators?

/-

"What do you mean by personal decorators?" Vader asked as softly as he could, even as he followed his son toward his quarters.

"You'll see," Luke responded both enigmatically and ominously.

They reached Vader's quarters just as the doors slid open. Luke strode in, followed more hesitantly by Vader, who then stopped in disbelief.

He had personally designed the front room of his quarters to be simple and spartan, with black floors, black walls, and large transparisteel windows which were obsessively cleaned by small droids.

Now there was a large black box on repulsors sitting in the middle of the room, and Leia Organa was kneeling before it, plumbing its sinister depths. The young woman was dressed in the uniform of an Imperial lieutenant, and had thrown her cap on the floor.

She abruptly stood up with a vase of purple stalistis in her hands, even as Ahsoka Tano, dressed in a dark robe, stepped out of the never used refresher in the corner of the room, with a vase of pink stalistis in her own tight grip.

"I cannot possibly be expected to work here without some redecorating, Lord Vader," Leia snapped indignantly, "So you'll just have to live with it. What is your problem, anyway? This place is like a mausoleum! I would have at least expected the lightsabers of Jedi you murdered to be hanging from the walls or something, but no, nothing!"

"Work?" Vader demanded, completely confused.

"I think it's fine, Leia," Luke said in a soothing tone, as he looked around appraisingly. "Very manly, with strong clean lines. And no sand, anywhere."

"Sand sand sand," Leia said crabbily, even as she and Ahsoka moved a small repulsor into one corner of the room and carefully placed a vase of stalistis on it. "You complain so much about sand, Luke."

"Says the pampered little princess whose only exposure to sand was on a beach next to an ocean," Luke shot back, even as he amicably helped move repulsors into the other corners, to be decorated with more vases of flowers. "You have no idea how lousy and irritating and coarse and pervasive the sands of Tatooine are."

The two continued verbally sparring (obviously for fun) even as they, and Tano, continued pulling flowers out of the box and decorating the room.

Vader just stood, bewildered, shocked, startled, and unnerved.

After Leia and Ahsoka had fussily moved the flowers around ("The red looks just fine next to purple, Leia." "No, I don't like it!") for _far_ too long, there came a strange moment when all was silent.

Luke watched Leia, an amused look on his face, as she spun around carefully and finally nodded firmly, "Ok, that's good!"

She turned and lifted her chin with determination, gazing directly into Darth Vader's black mask.

"I'm ready now."

The Sith Lord stared back at her, unsure of what to say. He felt horribly guilty about what he had done to his daughter on the Death Star. He could see Padme in his daughter's face. How could he have been so blind?

There was little he could do to make up for hours of torture at his hands, but if Leia wanted to redecorate his quarters with Padme's favorite flowers (and here he swallowed, hard) he would survive it.

"It is lovely, Princess Leia," he said carefully. "Thank you."

The girl looked surprised, then tossed her head a little, "The flowers are for me, not you, Lord Vader. I can't work on healing your lungs surrounded by boring, black walls. This place stinks of the Dark Side but I can focus on the Light if I've got some flowers around me."

"Healing me!?" Vader repeated incredulously.

"Yeah, that's why we're here," Luke explained cheerfully. "Didn't I say that?"

Vader shook his head slowly, in bewilderment, "No, you did not. And ... and ... Princess, I appreciate the thought, but I cannot ask this of you."

Leia stepped forward two paces and lifted one small, elegant finger to jab it into his breast plate, "This is not for you, Lord Vader. I assure you of that. I'm doing it because Luke asked me to. I'm doing it for him."

The Sith shook his head again, "I ... I cannot ..."

Leia looked resigned, "Luke, give Lord Vader 'the Look'."

The father glanced at his son and froze in astonishment. Luke was standing very still, his shoulders drooping, his blue eyes big, his face piteous, his pupils dilating, his expression yearning.

"I can't say no to that face," Leia admitted.

Luke straightened and his face morphed into its normal cheerful expression.

"Not many people can," he claimed confidently.

Vader was so bewildered and yes, dismayed, he didn't know where to start.

"Luke, much as I, ah, appreciate your concern for me, I do not feel you should pressure your sister ..."

Leia spoke up, "Lord Vader, I am entirely willing, actually. Luke says, and perhaps he is correct, that you'll be less cruel and homicidal if you don't feel rotten all of the time."

The Dark Lord frowned to himself, initially indignant, then reluctantly impressed. There was validity to this. On days when his biological innards hurt more than usual, when his rhythmic breathing pounded in his head like so many drums, he was more inclined to kill and torment others.

Which said something thoroughly unpleasant about his character. But then he was an evil, horrible person, a man who had attacked his own wife when she was pregnant with his unborn twins. He didn't deserve ...

In the midst of his mental self-flagellation, he missed his twins moving closer and was startled when four hands (Luke's small, Leia's even smaller) were carefully laid on his chest.

The two, one brunette, one dark blond, leaned their heads together so they were touching, even as they closed their eyes and focused.

The warmth in his chest came much more quickly this time and with tremendous power. The Sith tensed involuntarily at the Light filling his body, warring briefly with the Darkness before the Darkness shrank away, hissing irritably.

Incredulous, Vader watched his oxygen blood saturation levels. They had been consistently 97% since Luke had helped him on Mustafar. Now he watched them climb to 98%, 99%, 100%, 101%, 102%.

He began to feel light headed, even swayed slightly, and found Ahsoka at his side, holding him up.

"I think you might need to turn down your oxygen support, Skyguy," she murmured softly.

With some difficulty, Vader focused and lowered the amount of oxygen being forced into his lungs. After a minute, his blood saturation dropped back to 99%, and his brain cleared.

Luke and Leia abruptly dropped their hands and opened their eyes. They looked at one another and grinned.

"We could go into business," Luke said confidently.

The girl's eyebrows lifted, "Yes, we can travel the galaxy healing people who have fallen into lava. It's a huge market."

Her brother grinned back, "Good point."

The boy grew serious now, "Thank you, Leia."

"I did it for you," she returned gravely, then looked appraisingly at the looming Sith, "So I sensed substantial improvement?"

Vader was so dumfounded that he could not speak for a long moment. His eyes itched, wanting to tear up, but his tear ducts had given up the ghost 19 years earlier.

"Yes ... yes, it is ... it is a miracle. I was told that nothing could be done. You truly have great power."

"In the Light Side," Luke said in a minatory tone.

The Dark Lord shrugged, "You would be strong in the Dark as well, but ... I will admit the Dark does not lend itself to healing."

"The Dark Side stinks," Luke responded gloomily, before looking at his sister. "We need to go if you're going to make that meeting, Leia."

"Yes," his twin agreed, even as she used the Force to put the top back on the box.

She turned back to her biological sire with a frown crinkling her smooth forehead, "Do you have any clue what to do with these flowers? They need watering twice a day and if treated well, will beautify these quarters for two weeks. Can you manage that?"

Vader stared at her for a long moment, then ducked his head slightly, "Your mother's favorite flowers were stalistis so yes, I'm aware of their care."

Leia's eyes teared slightly, "I didn't know that. Thank you for telling us that detail about Padme."

"Not the sort of thing Obi-Wan would know," Luke pointed out.

"True," Leia agreed. She turned to go, just as Vader found his voice to ask.

"How will you safely depart this ship?"

The girl turned back, fixed a cold and frightening stare on her father's mask, and hissed, "If we told you that, we'd have to dispose of you."

She then placed her cap on her head and marched for the door.

Luke grinned sympathetically at his father, "Don't ask."

Darth Vader was shaken. If looks could kill ...

"Very well, I withdraw the question."

The boy smiled and threw his arms around his father.

Darth Vader returned the embrace, then watched as Ahsoka and the twins strode confidently out of the room.

Thirty minutes later, he was still standing, deep in thought, when the door chimed.

He gestured with the Force to find Admiral Piett standing at the door.

"Enter, Admiral."

The man stepped in with his head down, staring at a holopad, "My Lord, I have the preliminary report about the depredations on tydirium shipments ..."

The admiral's voice faded away as he observed the flowers filling the room, as he observed his lord and master standing, oddly silent, in the middle of the room.

"What do you think, Admiral?"

Piett opened his mouth, shut it, opened it, shut it again, and finally managed to say, unsteadily, "It is lovely, my Lord."

Vader nodded, as if satisfied, even as he gestured for the holopad. It flew out of Piett's nerveless hand and into his own. He glanced at it briefly, then sent it drifting to the desk against the wall, one holding 3 vases of stalistis.

"I will review your report later, Admiral. You are dismissed."

The admiral turned like an automaton and left the room. He proceeded toward the bridge, hesitated, then made a hard right toward the counseling center in the medical wing of the ship.

Fifteen minutes, he was in his happy place, curled up on a comfortable chair, clutching a stuffed loth-bat plush and speaking to a sympathetic counselor droid.

"I am not sure how long I can cope! I understand his anger, and the Force chokes. I can handle that. But flowers? That's the last straw. I'm losing my mind ..."

 _Author Note: Where is Sidious in all this? Oh, I don't know. It's crack! Thanks again to those of you reading, following, and reviewing. And thank you to my wonderful husband and editor._


	4. Chapter 4

_Jabba's Palace_

 _Tatooine_

 _6 months later_

Darth Vader thundered rapidly down the entrance tunnel of Jabba's Palace. Two Gamorrean guards had attempted to block his way seconds ago, and had been thrown against the walls for their pains. Now, anyone within visual range was running for his or her pathetic life.

Ahead of him, he could hear roaring, screaming, trumpeting, and howling. He swept around a corner and into Jabba's throne room, and then froze in horror and fury. The bulbous Hutt was sitting on his dais, staring down through a grate in the floor. Around the grate were the usual horde of scum and villainy. And next to Jabba, chained by the neck, was Leia Organa, clad in the skimpy and uncomfortable outfit of a slave dancer.

Bile rose in the Dark Lord's throat, even as the Dark Side snarled and growled within him. He raised a hand towards Jabba, intent on choking the life out of that monstrous slaver who had dared to lay his slimy mitts on his daughter. But at that moment, Leia looked up and saw him. Her eyes widened and she pointed downward.

"Luke's in there!" she shouted, though he heard her through the Force, not with his augmented ears. There was a tremendous amount of noise, though he now could recognize the roaring ...

His heart clenched in genuine terror, and he somersaulted forward past the roaring detritus that lurked in this loathsome Hutt lair. There were gasps of terror as the scum finally noticed his presence. But his focus was on the cavern below the Throne Room floor.

With a snarl of rage, he cut a large hole in the grate and dropped through, landing right next to Luke just as the boy lifted his lightsaber in time to take off one of the rancor's large and very dirty claws.

The beast howled in fury and reared back, even as Luke looked up with a genuine smile on his face, "Father! Welcome!"

Vader maintained most of his focus on the enraged rancor, but a good 17.3% of his attention was on his entirely too insouciant son.

"Are you injured?" he demanded, even as he used the Force to pick up a large sternum lying on the floor and hurl it accurately into the rancor's eye. It snarled in rage and pain, and batted its eyeball.

"I'm Ok," Luke called back, "though I think I might have cracked a rib when I fell. I will say that I'll never quite look at my rancor plush the same. This thing is ugly and stinky and slobbery. I'm going to need a thorough steam cleaning after we're done in here."

The rancor was looking at them both dubiously now, as if aware in its pea sized brain that these two creatures were considerably more trouble than his usual meals.

After a moment, however, hunger trumped any modicum of intelligence and it lumbered forward again, its mouth slavering large drops of spit. One of which splashed across Luke's gray shirt.

"Oh, yuck!" the boy yelped, even as he leaped into the air, elegantly flipped, and slashed his lightsaber through the rancor's front left appendage. It howled again, and managed to catch the boy with its other claw, knocking Luke to the ground.

Vader's rage exploded. He lifted his hands and thrust with the Force toward the rancor. It was lifted up and hurled against the far wall with such power that part of the wall collapsed. The rancor fell to the ground, rolled over on its side, and croaked dismally. Then it was still.

There was a gasp above them, and in the sudden silence there was the familiar, and surprising, sound of lightsabers above.

Luke rolled to his feet and glanced up.

"Ben and Ahsoka!" he yelled. The boy shook some of the slobber off of his clothing and leaped straight up, grabbed the remaining grating, and flipped into the room.

Vader shook his head incredulously and also leaped, though admittedly with less elegance, into the Throne Room. His first thought was that the room was filled with more lightsaber users than had been together since the fall of the Old Republic. His second thought was that he needed to make sure that his daughter was safe.

He spun around, slashed off the heads of a couple of beefy and idiotic guards, and then gasped in unaccustomed surprise. Leia was standing a meter away from Jabba, her hands grasping the chain which attached her to the crime lord. The rest of the chain had been looped around Jabba's fleshy neck, and the tiny princess was pulling the garrote tighter and tighter.

Behind her, Captain Han Solo was busy with his blaster, keeping her safe from untimely interruption. Jabba was gasping, straining, his large mouth flopping, until, with one final convulsive heave, he groaned and stilled.

Vader shook himself out of his brief reverie and joined the fight. On _his_ side - ridiculously enough - were Ahsoka, Luke, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Han Solo, the giant Wookiee Chewbacca, Leia Organa and Boba Fett. On the other were hordes of Jabba's minions.

Not surprisingly, the scum died early and often, and then the remaining survivors, presumably the ones with an ounce of brains, cut loose and ran.

As soon as the last straggler had left, Vader gestured with one irascible fist, and a clack of Klatooine paddy frogs, which had been huddling in an aquarium next to Jabba for his eating pleasure, were hurled at Obi-Wan Kenobi. The old man, winded from the fight and years of exile in the desert, reacted too slowly and found himself drenched, with three screaming frogs clinging to his cloak.

"What was that for?" Ahsoka demanded, moving forward to assist the shocked elder Jedi.

"How could you let that slimeball lay his foul hands on _my daughter_?" Vader roared indignantly, even as he removed his heavy black cape to wrap around the slight princess, who had been cut loose from her chains by now.

Leia looked surprised, then grateful, then surprised again as she felt the cloak's weight.

"Thank you. I'm surprised how much this weighs," she said, using the Force to wrap it around her frame. "How on Tatooine do you carry it around?"

"He's strong," Luke said with shining eyes. "You should have seen him throw that rancor."

"I'm waiting for an answer, Obi-Wan," the Sith snarled.

Kenobi blinked, "I'm afraid, ah, that ..."

"We accelerated the mission schedule," Luke interposed cheerfully, "sorry about that. Leia and I were supposed to skulk but then Jabba was going to feed a hapless Twi'lek dancer to the rancor and Leia got mad and punched his major domo in the face and Jabba grabbed her. And I was off trying to find Han so I wasn't around, and when I came back I ended up in the rancor pit."

The youth frowned now, "How did you find us here, anyway, Father?"

Vader's mouth dropped open behind his mask, even as Ahsoka said cheerily, "So your kids didn't quite follow the plan. Not much of a surprise."

The Sith turned to his son, appraising his health even as he spoke, "The bounty hunter Boba Fett has been in my employ this last year, seeking information about both of you. When he informed me that Han Solo had been captured by the bounty hunter Bossk and delivered to the Hutt, I thought one or both of you might make a rescue attempt. Fortunately, I had finished some recent business on Naboo, and was able to be here on Tatooine within hours. And it is just as well that I did."

"We ... sort of ... had the situation under control," Luke said meekly, "though I admit the rancor had me a tad worried."

Vader shook his head incredulously, then turned to the Mandalorian bounty hunter who was standing, frozen, like a gray monolith

"I trust, Fett, that you will remain quiet about the information imparted today?" he demanded in his most ominous tone.

Boba Fett didn't move for a long moment, then lifted one gloved hand to point at Leia.

"Leia Organa," he said carefully, "is your daughter."

"Biological daughter, yes," the Sith responded, menacingly.

"And Luke Skywalker is your son."

"Yes."

"We're twins!" Luke said cheerily.

Fett moved forward a pace, "So you are Anakin Skywalker."

A pause.

"That name no longer has any meaning for me," Vader rumbled.

There were various skeptical sounds, and Ahsoka said, with a toss of her montrals, "Except that you claim Anakin Skywalker's children and call me Snips on occasion. Other than that, no, you have nothing whatever to do with Anakin Skywalker."

"I was a mere child when I watched my father die at Geonosis, Lord Vader," the bounty hunter snarled, "Though perhaps you don't remember that particular battle?"

Vader took a menacing step forward, "It would be difficult to forget. Your _father_ took me prisoner, as well as my children's mother. We, plus Kenobi, were chained to pillars to be eaten by reeks and nexu. Jango Fett chose to align himself with Dooku, and died as a result."

"I haven't heard that story before," Leia said in a surprised tone.

"It must be a Skywalker 'thing' to be nearly eaten by slobbery beasts," Luke chimed in.

The bounty hunter stood still, but all the Force sensitives felt his rage emanating in the Force.

Luke stepped forward boldly and laid a gentle hand on the armored shoulder.

"I'm sorry about your father," he said genuinely. "I know what it is like to grow up without a father."

The bounty hunter looked down at the short youth for a long moment, and then the helmeted head bowed.

"Yeah, it was really hard. I mean, one day he's teaching me how to shoot people, how to use a jet pack to knock someone off a cliff, how to capture someone without inflicting so much damage that we wouldn't be able to collect the bounty, and the next day he was a decapitated corpse. I suppose I'll never be over it entirely ..."

Luke wrapped a slim hand around Fett's bulging bicep and pulled him gently toward an alcove, "I'm so sorry. Come on, let's talk about it a bit. I've been working with a counselor droid and I know how important it is to express your feelings ..."

Vader stared incredulously as the two walked away, then jerked slightly as Ahsoka spoke.

"Here's your cloak back, Skyguy. Solo found something a bit more appropriate for Leia."

He took the cloak absently and connected it around his neck, glanced at his daughter, and froze.

She was standing a meter away, wrapped now in a green robe, and was embracing Han Solo even as they kissed passionately.

10 heartbeats.

"What are you doing?" he demanded, completely stunned.

The couple broke loose and Leia turned with a sarcastic arch of her eyebrow, "It's called kissing, Lord Vader. It is a form of physical affection between people who are romantically involved."

"You ... you ..." he stuttered, "With ... Solo? He is ... he is ..."

"I know, not good enough," Solo said, agreeably. "Hey, I know that, you know that, but I love her and she loves me ..."

"You are too old for her!" Vader roared indignantly. There were other major problems but he focused on this one.

His daughter's eyes narrowed, "Not that it is any of your business, but I am very mature for my age."

"And I'm immature for mine, so it's not a problem." Solo chimed in, not helpfully.

Vader stared, then swung around to face Kenobi.

"How could you permit this to happen?" he demanded, poking his former master's chest with one prosthetic finger.

The old Jedi shook his head, a slight smile gracing that aged face, "I gave up on involving myself with Skywalker romantic entanglements decades ago, Anakin."

"Yeah, and you're one to talk, Skyguy," Ahsoka said indignantly, "considering you were sneakily carrying on with the Senator, who was 5 years older than you, right under our noses for ages ..."

"We were not, as you put it so inelegantly, carrying on," Vader said indignantly. "We were married."

This provoked surprise from both Kenobi and Tano, and obvious interest from Leia.

"Were you? When? Where" Kenobi demanded.

The Sith rolled his hidden eyes, "At the beginning of the Clone Wars, at Varykino, on Naboo, under the trees on the east terrace ..."

The filtered voice grew rapt with memory, "She wore a white gown and headdress, and she was so beautiful. Her dark hair flowed down, her face was angelic ..."

Solo gently prodded Leia with his elbow.

"Who would have thunk, Leia?" he murmured softly. "You're old man's a raving romantic."

The approach of Luke and Boba Fett broke into Vader's diatribe on his wife's many perfections.

"The plushes really help," Luke was saying earnestly, approaching the small group with his hand still on Fett's arm. "I hug my rancor when I'm feeling really sad, and I throw it against the wall when I'm angry. If you need a stuffed plush, let me know, and I'll see what we have in storage."

Solo shook his head in amazement, "Well, I hate to interrupt all this, but we should leave this vile pit, don't you think?"

Leia nodded, even as she poked her twin in the Force, "Luke, do you want to ..."

"Oh yeah!" Luke said, shifting his focus away from the bounty hunter, "Father, Leia and I have been working more on Force assisted healing and as long as you're here, maybe we can work some more on your injuries? I believe we have a special on healing spleens today."

"Luke," Leia said in a long suffering tone, "people don't actually _need_ their spleens, not as much as some other organs."

"And I fear I no longer have a spleen," Vader said stiffly.

Luke's face drooped slightly, but then brightened, "How about kidneys, then? Leia and I did a great job on this guy who was going to need a transplant but we got him back to 80% normal kidney capacity."

The Dark Lord stilled, overwhelmed. To have functioning kidneys ...

"That would be truly glorious, my son," he said genuinely.

"Ok, then! Let's get back to the ship," Luke said, heading for the exit with the others in tow.

Vader found himself striding beside his former master.

"Kenobi."

"Yes, Anakin?"

"We should discuss how to destroy the Emperor."


	5. Chapter 5

_Shuttle Bay #6_

 _The_ Executor

 _In orbit around Naboo_

 _The 21st Empire Day_

 _4 months later_

Darth Vader gloomily walked behind his master across the shuttle bay

Ahead of him, the Emperor's shuttle stood with ramp lowered. Six Royal Guards, dressed in unremitting red, marched up into the ship, followed by an Imperial captain, followed by the aged Palpatine, who was dramatically leaning on his staff as he hobbled along the path toward the shuttle, which was lined with hundreds of stormtroopers. A useless waste of time for the _Executor_ 's troopers, of course, but Palpatine was enamored with pomp.

Vader followed his master up the ramp wearily, bored already. He hated pageantry, hated the fulsome, usually scripted, adoration of the masses towards Palpatine. And most of all, he hated Naboo. He wasn't quite as miserable now that he knew his children lived, but Naboo was still a knife wound to the heart. It was on Naboo that he and Padme were married, it was Varykino where the children should have spent the first months of their lives. And yet the twins had lost both father and mother as newborns, and had grown up on other planets, with other guardians.

It certainly wasn't due to anything he had done, as a father, but both his kids were downright amazing.

A slow smile crept across his face as he meekly stepped onto the shuttle and lowered himself into his designated seat. It was across from Palpatine's throne –yes, the old man had a throne on his private shuttle - so Vader, in spite of his great height, was seated slightly lower than his master.

Which was appropriate, he supposed, nor did he particularly care about the symbolism of high and low. Leia was tiny and yet full of fire and energy and determination. Now Vader grinned. The image of Jabba, big floppy tongue hanging out as Leia choked the life out of him, flashed across his mind. It had been a beautiful sight.

And Luke, her twin, while not as dominating a character, was glorious in his own right. Optimistic, kind, determined, brave – he was Padme all over again, but with Anakin's looks.

"You seem deep in thought, Lord Vader," Sidious said suddenly, his yellow eyes focused on Vader's mask.

The younger Sith checked his shields in the Force quickly. As usual, they were strong and tight. He was never lax now, given that he had living children he must protect.

But now, focusing in on his master, he realized he had erred. Palpatine was more curious than usual, and the Master was entirely capable of battering down Vader's shields if he so desired.

Vader made a rapid decision, "I am thinking of Naboo, my Master. It is a ... difficult planet for me."

Perhaps openly acknowledging weakness would distract the old despot.

The elder Sith sighed slightly, relaxed, even as a slight smile crossed that aged and ugly face.

"Because of Senator Amidala, yes ..." the Emperor mused.

There was a strange pause, and the wrinkled face turned to look out the window of shuttle, even as it flew out of the _Executor_ 's shuttle bay.

"I was at Varykino once, as a boy," the Emperor mused, "It was ... a magical place."

Vader stiffened. Varykino ...Varykino ... why must Palpatine torment him so?

"My Auntie Bilkin took me there for a gala celebration once. She wasn't actually a relative, but rather was a dear friend. We ate steamed Nabooian crab on the beach. Of course, being but a child, I was more excited about the dweezel sticks imported from Tatooine."

The Ruler of the Galaxy's face drooped forlornly, "It's been so long since I've had a good dweezel stick."

Vader twitched, bewildered. What was going on? This was not a typical conversation with his cruel and intensely ambitious master. And there had been a strange flicker in his Master's eyes for a moment ...

"I am certain, my Master," he said carefully, "that we could provide dweezel ..."

"I wonder, sometimes," Sidious interrupted, mournfully and oddly, "what the point of this all is. Yes, I have power, and glory, and incredible strength in the Dark Side. I have inestimable riches at my fingertips, all the moonglow I can eat, and I can murder and torture and cause destruction as I see fit. But in the end, we'll all just be space dust. Some of us sooner rather than later. I'm old, you know."

Darth Vader found himself drooling in shock, before pulling himself together.

"Do not say such things, my Master." he protested with as much energy as he could manage, "You are the greatest man to exist in millennia. Your people admire and venerate you!"

"Do they?" the old man's smile was cynical. "They fear me, certainly, though they fear you more since you are more often in the public eye. Be at peace, Lord Vader. I have no intention of wandering off on an extended sojourn to find myself, nor will you kill me any time in the next decades. You are strong in the Force, my friend, but I can still take you with one hand tied behind my back."

"Yes, my Master," Vader responded meekly, though privately he doubted it. His twins had done so much healing that he was far stronger than he had been since Mustafar. Still, the time was not yet right ...

"Well, enough of such mournful talk," Sidious said, his face taking on its usual malevolent mien. "I trust that you have arranged a suitable celebration for my surprise visit to the Empire Day festivities this evening?"

Vader nodded, unenthusiastically, "Yes, my master. There will be a performance of the opera 'The Veermok Dichotomy' in the Royal Opera House this evening, and afterwards a full banquet. The chefs assure me that the skipper squid is particularly delectable this year."

"And Tritia Skylarn?" Sidious demanded worriedly.

Vader sighed in a long suffering way, "She is indeed in the lead role of the opera, and her hair is, as you demanded, bright orange for tonight's performance."

The thin lips perked, "Good, good ... I have seen her several times on Imperial Center. She played an Ecclessis fig in that amazing fruit and vegetable opera written by the genius Marnit Tanzo ..."

Vader was listening with 4% of his attention when with a sudden surge, the Force screamed so loudly that he jumped.

As did Sidious.

"What ... who ... is that?" the old Sith demanded with a mixture of surprise, awe, and fear.

Vader stiffened in horror. His twins ... his twins were here! They must have just come out of hyperspace. What were they doing?

"Captain," Sidious snarled to an officer who was standing nervously at one end of the shuttle, "contact the _Executor_ immediately! I require an immediate scan of all ships that recently came out of hyperspace. A strong Force sensitive ... no two ... no three ... By the moons of Iago, Vader, one of them is Kenobi. Kenobi is here! Where ... what ...?"

/-

 _The Executor_

 _Darth Vader's private quarters_

"Do you have a problem, Fett?" Captain Rex, veteran clone trooper, demanded of his reluctant ally.

Fett, who had taken off his helmet to better stare at the other man, nodded, "You can't blame me for being rather interested in how I'll look in, oh, 50 or 60 years, when my body is as ancient as yours, old man."

Rex glared at the bounty hunter even as he lifted a sardonic eyebrow, "At least my face has seen a sun in the last 20 years. What are you doing hiding under that stupid helmet all the time? Your skin looks like the belly of a Lothan ghost snake. Vader has a reason, with all his injuries, but you?"

"I wear it," Fett snarled softly, "in memory of my father!"

"He wasn't _really_ your father," Rex snapped back. "Like me, you are a clone of Jango Hutt, not a son ..."

"He raised me as a son," the bounty hunter hissed, "and I don't have accelerated growth like you, you ancient piece of anemic grassworm."

"Who are you calling a grassworm ...?"

"Enough!" interrupted the third member of their party.

Ahsoka Tano shook her head, her montrals swinging incredulously, "Look, you two, I get that you've got progenitor issues but we've got a major job here ..."

"Right now," interrupted Rex, "the _Falcon_ and X-wing squadrons 2 and 3 just came out of hyperspace. Prepare to stymie the weapons systems across this ship. We need to give the others time to take out Palpatine!"

/-

 _Emperor's Shuttle, in space between the Executor and Naboo_

Vader was standing now, swaying slightly, his mind a cacophony of terror and bewilderment.

His twins were nearby. He sensed them nearby on ... on the _Millennium Falcon_? That derelict, miserable excuse of a ship?

They were going to die, with the _Executor_ and her myriad TIE squadrons out in space, and substantial fleet support on Naboo itself.

And if they died, he would die. Right here. Right now. He could not live ...

A voice inserted itself into his chaotic brain patterns.

" _Father?_ "

/-

 _Control Room_

 _The Executor_

"Fire all weapons systems at the X-wings and the freighter!" Piett ordered hurriedly, "and launch TIE squadrons!"

"Sir, all weapons systems are off line!"

"What?!"

/-

 _Emperor's Shuttle_

"Vader, we must ...Vader, what are you doing?"

Darth Vader, bewildered but obedient to the voice in his head, staggered toward the emergency exit hatch, lit his lightsaber, and boldly cut down through the thick durasteel.

"Guards, kill him!" Palpatine howled, even as he raised spindly fingers toward the younger Sith. Force lightning leaped out and tore into the cyborg's suit. Vader flinched and yelped in pain, but continued cutting.

 _"Father!"_

 _"I ... am all right, Son. It is well that we worked on my suit."_

Abruptly, the shuttle cabin was exposed to space. The door between the cockpit and the cabin crashed shut automatically. Everyone in the cabin, including Sith Lords, hapless captain, and Royal Guards were pulled toward the depressurizing hole.

Vader continued cutting.

/-

 _The Executor_

"Admiral!" a white faced lieutenant gasped, "There has been a hull breach in the Emperor's shuttle!"

"Sir," a focused technician chimed in, "We have traced the sabotage of the _Executor_ 's weapons systems to Lord Vader's quarters!"

/

 _Emperor's Shuttle_

The emergency door broke free and floated into space.

Darth Vader floated into space.

Six Imperial guards floated into space, their mouths open, their voices dying in their throats, before they asphyxiated.

The captain didn't even make it out of the shuttle. He just died, clutching the edge of a chair.

Darth Sidious, the Ruler of the Known Galaxy, propelled himself out into space using the Force. He was strong, he was powerful, he had survived worse things, and he would kill that traitorous piece of shaak steak if it was the last thing he did.

In the silence of the void, the bolts of Force lightning flew toward Vader, who, after being blasted once, managed to turn around to deflect them with his lightsaber.

It was a dangerous and macabre dance, one full of fire and fury, one that lasted all of 60 seconds before ...

The _Millennium Falcon_ swooped close to the battling pair. A cargo hold opened into space, and two figures, dressed in space suits, reached out into the Force to pull their father into the bay.

Seconds later, Emperor Palpatine flew into the hold in pursuit of his wayward apprentice.

The door slammed shut, the bay filled with life giving air, and Darth Vader, his twin children, and Palpatine rolled to their feet, staring at one another.

/-

 _Vader's quarters_

 _The Executor_

"Rex, we've got company!" Ahsoka snapped, checking the door locks and lifting her lightsaber, prepared for battle.

"Vader has been retrieved by Skywalker and Organa," Fett said sharply, lifting his hand to the transmitter in his right ear.

"And Palpatine is on board the _Falcon_ as well," Ahsoka gasped.

/-

 _The Millennium Falcon_

For a long moment, the Emperor panted heavily, drawing oxygen painfully into his starved lungs.

Opposite him, the two shorter individuals carefully removed their helmets.

The first figure was a young man of about 20, blue eyed with dark blond hair.

The second, and smaller form, threw her helmet on the floor to reveal the face of …

"Princess Leia Organa," Sidious said grimly. "This is truly a surprise."

He turned now to face his former apprentice, "And you, Lord Vader, have startled me indeed. To align yourself with the pacifist daughter of the House of Organa is an unusual deception given your generally unsophisticated machinations."

"She. Is. My. Daughter!" Vader said bitingly.

There was a frozen pause.

"Impossible," Sidious croaked, more surprised than he had been in more than twenty years. "Impossible!"

"And I'm his son," the youth said cheerily, "Padme had twins, and we were separated, and then we found each other, and now we are going to kick your royal butt! I don't think you'll do well against three trained Skywalkers."

"We will see!" Palpatine hissed. In an instant, his hands were out and the lightning leaped forward, not at Vader himself, but the floor right in front of the younger Sith. The bolt traveled through the metal and into Vader's prosthetic feet and up his legs, causing the cyborg to fall to the floor with a startled howl of pain.

"Father!" Luke yelled, leaping to protect his sire.

Leia acted instantly, spinning to one side, her lightsaber flashing. Palpatine turned his attention on her and she, while managing to deflect most of the painful bolts, took an indirect hit on one arm. With a grunt of determination, she threw her lightsaber towards the Emperor.

At that moment, a large box sitting peacefully on the shelf behind the combatants suddenly leaped off and smashed into Palpatine's defenseless skull. He fell, even as Leia's lightsaber sliced through his legs at the knee.

The box broke open, scattering counseling plushies all over the floor.

Luke leaped forward now, his lightsaber en pointe, preparing to drive his blade into the Emperor's throat.

And then he paused.

The door slid open and Obi-Wan Kenobi stepped in.

"Kill him, Luke! Kill him now!"

Luke looked down at the Emperor, delegged, his skull bleeding from the impact of the box which Kenobi had thrown.

The boy shook his head, breathing heavily, "I shouldn't. He is unarmed and injured. It is not the Jedi way."

Kenobi shook his head, exasperated, "He is too dangerous to be kept alive."

Luke shook his head, "No …"

"Luke is right, Obi-Wan," Vader intoned solemnly. "I killed Count Dooku at Palpatine's behest, and it was one step toward the Dark Side."

Obi-Wan groaned aloud, "But how can we possibly keep him safely imprisoned!"

There was a stir from the injured man on the floor, and the four Force users tensed.

Sheev Palpatine opened his eyes, his _blue_ eyes, and gazed ahead in bewilderment. He looked first at Luke, then Leia, then Vader, then Kenobi, without any obvious expression.

And then his eyes lit on a stuffed colo claw fish lying on the floor.

The old face lit up with a genuine smile, and he gestured with one ancient arm. The velvety fish leaped into his arms and he smiled as he hugged it, his eyes tearing up.

"My fishy," Palpatine said happily, and lost consciousness again.

 _Author Note: Thanks for the follows and reviews! And thank you to my wonderful husband for making time to edit this fic._


	6. Chapter 6

_The Millennium Falcon_

 _In space near Naboo_

"Chewie, Chewie! Reroute the rear deflector shields! We've got a squadron of TIEs on our tail!"

"Han, this is Luke. I'm manning one of the main guns and Leia is manning the other one."

The ship lurched, and Solo shot a worried look at one of his panels.

"Hold together, Baby, hold together!"

/-

 _The_ Executor

 _Darth Vader's quarters_

The door into Vader's quarters finally blew open.

Fett and Rex focused their blasters on the incoming storm troopers, cutting them down as they entered.

A moment later, Ahsoka looked up in dismay and ran quickly into the chamber next door, where Vader's hyperbaric chamber yawned in its sinister glory. There was another exit here, an emergency one, and ...

That door blew open. Tano's lightsabers woke up and she charged forward, white blades dancing and slashing, decimating the stormtroopers trying to make their way inside.

/-

 _The Executor_

 _The Bridge_

"The Emperor and Lord Vader were somehow pulled into that freighter, Admiral!"

"Order all TIEs to alter tactics. We need to take the occupants of that freighter alive. Shoot to incapacitate the ship's hyperdrive, but not to destroy. There must not be another hull breach which endangers the Emperor!"

"Yes, sir!"

"Sir, we're receiving a coded transmission from the freighter. The code indicates it is from Lord Vader himself!"

"Patch me through!"

/-

 _Millennium Falcon_

 _Main Crew Cabin_

Darth Vader (Anakin Skywalker?) gazed intently at his (former) master, who was lying on a couch, his eyes closed, his hands ferociously massaging his colo claw plushie.

Around him, the _Falcon_ shook under the fire of the myriad TIEs shooting at its battered hull. Through the Force, he sensed his twins taking out TIE after TIE, but the number of Imperial ships battering this old freighter meant she would be destroyed if they didn't get out of here.

He frowned now, sensing the change in the TIEs attack patterns. Shooting to damage, not destroy, then ...

"Lord Vader?"

The younger Sith spoke more rapidly than usual, "Admiral Piett, order your ships to desist the attack ..."

There was a sudden explosion and the ship lurched. Vader was nearly thrown off his feet, and Palpatine was knocked off the rather dilapidated couch to the floor. The stuffed fish came loose and rolled away, provoking the old despot to open his mouth in a pathetic wail.

"I need my fishy!"

Vader snarled softly and gestured with the Force, causing the plushie to leap back into Palpatine's arms.

"Sir?" Piett asked anxiously.

"Admiral, order all Imperial ships to stop firing on this ship. I have the situation under control!"

The relief in the Admiral's voice was obvious, "Yes, my Lord. Right away."

There was a long pause, too long, and then the firing stopped.

"Han, get us out of here!" Leia yelled through her com, causing Vader to wince slightly at the excessive volume.

"I can't! The hyperdrive was damaged in the attack!"

"My Lord," the Admiral was back on line, "we are prepared to tractor beam the ship into the _Executor_. Are you or His Royal Highness injured, my Lord?"

Vader hesitated. Now was his chance to kill this old despot, to destroy the man who had destroyed his life.

The wrinkled mouth clenched as the old man rolled back and forth on the floor, muttering softly to himself, clutching his stuffed plushie.

The former Anakin Skywalker took a deep breath. No, he would not give way to hatred and anger and vengeance.

"The Emperor has been badly injured, Admiral. I am mostly unharmed. There are other minor injuries which will need to be addressed."

"Yes, my Lord."

" _Father!"_ Luke's telepathic voice sounded in his head

Vader winced at the internal volume, even as Piett spoke again, "Lord Vader."

" _Ahsoka and Fett and Rex are in your quarters ..._ "

"We have traced saboteurs to your quarters, my Lord."

 _"Ahsoka says they are under heavy attack."_

"The intruders are being attacked even now, but progress is slow. It appears at least one wields a lightsaber."

Vader gritted his teeth at the competing voices, and forced himself to speak steadily.

"Admiral, order your men to withdraw from my quarters. I will deal with the intruders when I arrive on board."

Piett's tone was slightly surprised, but he answered readily enough, "Yes, my Lord."

" _Luke, how did Tano and the others gain access to my quarters?"_

His daughter's voice responded instead of his son's, " _If we told you that, we'd have to kill you."_

Vader sighed aloud, _"I withdraw the question."_

/

 _The Executor_

 _Lord Vader's quarters_

"Vader has called them off," Ahsoka said briskly, striding back into the room where both clones of Jango Fett were waiting. "Are you both all right?"

"We are uninjured," Rex stated.

"No thanks to you, Old Man," Fett commented offensively, "you shoot like a grunt. Haven't you learned anything in the last 20 years? You can't just fire straight on ..."

"I stopped more troopers than you did, Fett ..."

"But I took care of the ones with a few extra brain cells, who were using their cover sensibly ..."

"Stop! Both of you!" Ahsoka ordered firmly.

The two men dropped their glare, and turned to look at her.

She strode over to Fett, her eyes blazing, "What is with you, bounty hunter? You've been all over Captain Rex since we started this mission. Bounty hunters have a reputation for being scum but Skyguy seems to trust you, so I don't know where this is coming from. But it stops _now_."

There was a pause, and then Boba's face grew downcast, "I'm sorry."

She waited.

Fett's glance flickered over to Rex, and then he muttered, "I guess I'm just kind of ... kind of jealous."

"Jealous?" Rex demanded. "Jealous?"

"Yeah, because ... because you know, you had brothers. Clone brothers. It was just me and my father and then, and then ... ya know ... he died at Geonosis ..."

"But you got to spend time with him," Rex responded incredulously. "You got to spend years with Jango Fett! Do you know what a privilege that was? None of us ever knew him. I mean in some ways we _are_ him, but we were chipped, which made us weird, and we had accelerated growth. I am an old man compared to you, but we sprang from the same man. I ... I have to admit I've been envious of you!"

Boba looked over at Rex, his eyes tearing slightly, "You have?"

"Sure I have," Rex said with a fond look at the younger man. "Come on over here, Boba. Ahsoka, you too."

Ahsoka smiled and stepped forward, even as she heard Luke's voice in her head, " _Ahsoka, how is it going over there?"_

" _We're having a group hug, Luke. We're doing just fine."_

 _/-_

 _Millennium Falcon_

Han Solo stalked out of the cockpit of the Falcon, rigid with outrage and distress.

"We are caught in a tractor beam!" he snarled as he entered the main crew area. "We're being pulled into the _Executor_!"

Vader was standing near the door, his helmet tipped toward the couch on the far side of the room.

"Be at peace, Captain," he said absently, "I command the _Executor._ All will be well."

"Everything will be fine, huh? We killed the Emperor and ..." Solo's voice trailed away as his eyes took in the cloaked form lying on the couch, "Who is _that_?"

Luke was bending over the figure, but now straightened, "It's Palpatine, Han. He used the Force to follow Father out of the shuttle and into the cargo hold."

A multitude of thoughts jumbled around in Han Solo's head like a whirlpool beneath a waterfall, until one rose to the top.

"Where are his _legs_?"

Leia quirked an eyebrow and motioned with her head, "In the cargo hold. I cut them off."

Han found himself gasping like a beached ruhau-whale, "You cut off his legs?"

"I meant to kill him," she said with durasteel in her eyes, "But Obi-Wan smacked him with a box of plushies and he fell over just as I threw my lightsaber. So it got him at the knees instead of across the body. He attacked Lord Vader and me, and obviously meant to kill us all if he could."

"Why is he still alive?" Han demanded rigidly, even as Chewie entered the room, growling.

"An excellent question," Obi-Wan said coldly, stepping in from another corridor.

Luke looked down at the old man, who was still unconscious, "He was badly injured and unconscious, Han. I couldn't just murder him."

"You're a bunch of crazy bleeding hearts."

"His eyes were blue," Vader said, unexpectedly.

The conscious occupants of the room swung to stare at the Sith, most of them with confusion in their eyes.

"What?" Luke demanded.

"His eyes were blue," his father repeated gravely, "When he woke up briefly and grabbed the stuffed fish. The Sith have yellow eyes, not blue."

"Why?" Luke asked, completely bewildered.

There was a pause.

"I do not know," Vader confessed. "Do you, Kenobi?"

Obi-Wan threw up his arms, "I'm not sure. It has something to do with bodily corruption associated with the Dark Side but there are complexities beyond my understanding. Nor is it a definite thing, since Palpatine managed to keep his alter ego as a conniving Sith Lord completely under wraps during the Clone Wars. His eyes weren't yellow when he was posing as the benign Chancellor of the Republic."

"So he might have been faking earlier today," Han stated.

Kenobi shook his head, reluctantly, "No, he was not ..."

"He's awake," Leia said, who had been checking on the Emperor obsessively.

The old man sat up now, looked around with a bewildered expression on his face, "Where am I?"

"You are on the _Millennium Falcon_ ," Vader said carefully.

The aged face looked around, nodded, smiled sweetly, "Nice ship."

Obi-Wan harrumphed sarcastically, even as Solo said, "She's more than nice, she's fabulous!"

Palpatine's blue eyes now moved to Chewbacca, "Nice Wookiee."

And finally, the old man lit on Luke's stuffed rancor, which was sitting on the derajik board.

"Nice rancor!" he crowed, gesturing toward it. The plush flew into his arm, where it nestled up against the fishy.

"Hey!" Luke said indignantly, "that's my rancor!"

The old face crumbled, the lower lip quivered, and the creaky voice wailed, "No, no! My rancor!"

"Luke, let him have the rancor," Leia said wearily.

"But it's mine ..." Luke began, then groaned aloud, running his left hand through his hair, "Ok, fine, you can have it."

"What is going on?" Solo demanded.

"He got hit in the head ..." Luke said.

"Hard," said Leia.

"Probably ..."

"Brain damage of some sort ..."

"He's acting like a toddler now ..."

"He also might ..."

"Have some kind of spinal injury ..."

"Or weird Force thing going on ..."

"Because he's not in much pain," the two finished in chorus.

Solo shook his head, "That's weird, and you're weird when you do that."

"We're twins," Luke said with a grin.

Han looked at the ceiling as if searching for guidance, then spoke carefully, "So to summarize, my ship's hyperdrive is broken, we're being pulled into a gargantuan Super Star Destroyer, but that's Ok because your Old Man is now basically running the galaxy, and the actual ruler of the galaxy has lost his marbles."

"That is an adequate description," Vader agreed approvingly.

"My rancor," Palpatine muttered happily.

 _Author Note: I have a 3 year old. Don't get between a toddler and her plushies. Or a brain damaged Sith Lord and his plushies, for that matter._


	7. Chapter 7

_The Executor_

 _In orbit around Naboo_

 _30 minutes later_

"But what about Tritia Skylarn?" the pale, rather overweight man exclaimed breathlessly across the countless kilometers between the _Executor_ and the Opera House in Theed, the capital city of Naboo.

Piett forced himself to take several calming breaths. The Emperor was badly injured from an attack by unknown assailants, and he was tasked with dealing with the disrupted Empire Day celebrations on Naboo?

It was small comfort that Vader had no doubt chosen him because of his competency and diplomacy. He felt uneasy; if someone dared to attack the Emperor himself, was his precious _Executor_ truly safe?

(The X-wings which had appeared out of hyperspace along with the derelict _Millennium Falcon_ had gone back _into_ hyperspace, but what if the fool Rebels were planning on some kind of massive attack?)

"Tritia Skylarn?" he repeated belatedly, "Who is she?"

The fat face flushed in outrage, "Tritia Skylarn is the galaxy's most well known operatic prima donna, invited to Naboo at Emperor Palpatine's behest! She changed her hair color from blue to orange for him! She will be most upset if the Emperor is not in the audience tonight!"

Piett decided, abruptly, that diplomacy could take a holiday.

"The Emperor had a sudden schedule change," he said curtly. "He runs the Empire, in case you've forgotten, which is far more important than an opera. Continue the Empire Day celebrations as planned, and inform the press and Tritia Skylarn that the Emperor regrets being unable to attend. Admiral Piett out."

He turned off the holoterminal without allowing further discussion, and turned to see a lieutenant hovering anxiously.

"Sir, Lord Vader orders you to the High Security Medical Wing."

"Very good," Piett responded, and strode off rapidly.

The High Security Med Wing was _very_ high security today, he noted with relief. There were a multitude of troopers standing at attention, blasters at the ready.

No one, Piett determined, would have a chance to attack either his Emperor or his Lord today. Not on his watch.

A door hissed open into the main medical suite, and he took two steps inward before halting.

His mouth opened, closed, and opened again. He had never, in his entire life, a life that spanned nearly four standard decades now, felt this flummoxed.

A repulsor bed hovered in the middle of the medical bay, and on the reclined bed sat the Emperor of the known galaxy, his Royal Highness, Sheev Palpatine.

Who was missing his legs beneath the knee, and was ... was ... playing, apparently with a toy of some kind. A fish plush. A colo claw fish plush!

Sitting next to him on a chair was a dark blond, blue eyed young man, one who seemed vaguely familiar to Piett. The young man also had a toy – a stuffed rancor? And the two men, one old, one young, were swooping the toys backwards and forwards making zooming noises with their mouths.

Piett gulped and surreptitiously pinched himself. Pain. He was, regrettably awake. This was not a nightmare.

"Admiral Piett," the deep bass voice intoned suddenly.

The Admiral turned and bowed slightly toward his tall superior. Vader was staring at a large screen mounted on a medical table. Next to the looming Sith were a human male dressed in the garb of an Imperial doctor, and a med droid.

The two doctors, human and mechanical, were muttering with one another.

"You've dealt with the Empire Day festivities?" Vader asked, somewhat absently.

"Yes, my Lord," Piett said, firmly pulling himself together, "I informed those in charge that the Emperor had a sudden schedule change."

"Good work, Admiral," Vader said with more warmth than was usual.

"Have you ever seen a colo claw fish?" Palpatine suddenly asked earnestly of the young blond

Piett started. The tone was completely abnormal – genuine, not menacing. Almost ... almost innocent.

The youth shook his head gravely, "No, I haven't. I've heard they are very big, though."

"Yes, they are big," Palpatine agreed eagerly. "If I ever see one, I should hit it with my harpoon!"

"I think," the young man responded carefully, "that if you see one, you should just go away and leave it alone. That is safer."

"But if I hit it with my harpoon, we could eat it! I bet it would be tasty and then I could have dweezel sticks for dessert!"

The young face brightened, "I love dweezel sticks!"

Palpatine's wrinkled face lit up in a delightful smile, "I ate dweezel sticks at Varykino with my Auntie Bilkin. They were so good!"

The youth smiled back, "They are! Especially with muja fruit glaze. Delicious!"

Piett felt distinctly woozy. The galaxy was tipping on its axis right in front of him ...

The door sliding open distracted him (mercifully.) He turned and sustained yet another shock as a tiny brunette marched in, followed by a Togruta female with two lightsaber hilts dangling at her waist, followed by a Mandalorian armored figure, followed by an older male who was, the admiral realized with an additional surge of shock, a clone trooper without his helmet on.

Vader turned to stare at the group and nodded, "Tano, Fett, Rex."

The Togruta nodded back, "Skyguy."

Piett choked involuntarily; mercifully, the Sith ignored him.

The Togruta turned now and took a few steps towards Palpatine, causing Piett to tense.

"What ... happened to him?" Tano demanded after a long moment, "He feels light."

"Yes, he does," the brunette woman agreed. With another surge of incredulous shock, Piett recognized her.

Leia Organa of Alderaan, a prominent Rebel!

"I do not know," Vader admitted, "He was struck in the head and appears to have experienced a substantial ... personality change."

"I believe I have at least a partial explanation of that," the Imperial doctor said suddenly.

Everyone turned toward him.

"Please explain, Doctor Sert," the Dark Lord intoned.

A large holoterminal lit up on the far wall. All sentients in the room stared at it – all save the Emperor, who was now leaning back on his bed, eyes closed, hands clutching both plushies.

Sert gestured at the screen, "My Lord, the image on the left is a brain scan of his Royal Highness taken 4 months ago as part of a routine checkup. The one on the right is a scan taken today. You will observe the remarkable changes. The Emperor's injury was such that entire areas of his brain have been seriously damaged with altered blood flow, failure of synapses, and so on."

The med droid spoke now, "In most sentients, such damage would have caused breathing dysfunction, catastrophic brain damage, and death. But in the case of his Royal Highness ..."

Sert broke in rather excitedly, "If you study the most recent brain scan, you will observe there is a section of the Emperor's brain which is not affected by his injuries. Indeed, a careful analysis of the older scan indicates that there was a section of his brain which was, 4 months ago, separate from the rest of his brain, and indeed it was almost completely dormant! It's very unusual. I am merely speculating because this situation is unique, but it appears that somehow an entire area of Palpatine's brain has been locked off for a substantial portion of his life. And when he was badly injured, this section woke up and took over necessary bodily processes. It also seems, perhaps through his Force skills, that he is able to manage pain remarkably well as he is not in substantial discomfort from losing his legs."

There was a very long pause, and Piett noticed Lord Vader and the Togruta gazing at one another.

"The Chancellor persona," Tano finally said.

"Indeed," Vader agreed.

Piett was bewildered, and thus was relieved when Leia Organa spoke, "Explanation needed!"

Vader turned to the diminutive princess, "In his days as the Chancellor of the Old Republic, Palpatine acted and looked like a benign middle aged man. He seemed kindly, with a soft and indeed gentle demeanor. Once he took control as Emperor, that persona seemed to disappear permanently. I assumed it was all an act but perhaps somehow Palpatine managed to create, in his brain, a separate persona, one which served his purposes in taking over the galaxy. And then he locked it away."

"And now," the Togruta added eagerly, "the normal part of his brain is badly damaged, and the kindly persona has taken over!"

The clone trooper spoke, "How is that even _possible_?"

Tano turned to him, "I don't know. We don't know. But Rex, the Emperor is Light in the Force now. He is!"

"But he's also acting like a small child," the blue eyed youth pointed out. "So maybe that's part of it? And why is that?"

"It may be that this new/old section of his brain is waking up and needs to mature?" Organa inquired in a puzzled tone.

There was a long pause.

"I don't know," the boy finally said, "but if he does mature, I want my rancor back."

"Luke," the princess fumed, "would you please stop going on and on about your rancor! If you want another rancor, we can get you one."

"It's not the same," 'Luke' pouted.

"Son," Vader said, causing Sert and Piett to nearly jump out of their skins, "your task has indeed been an arduous one this last hour, and you have excelled at keeping Palpatine calm. We are appreciative that you are playing with him. Do you need assistance?"

'Luke', Vader's _son_ , glanced at the princess and sighed, "I think I'm probably the best person for the task ..."

The boy's pupils dilated, his shoulders slumped, his face grew piteous, "I don't suppose we really could have some dweezel sticks?"

The Dark Lord openly flinched, then turned to Piett, "Admiral, get my son and the Emperor some dweezel sticks, _immediately_."

There was only one thing to say.

"Yes, my Lord."

 _Author Note: Our 5 yo son loves his plushies too, and for a time had identical blue pillow pets. One was "old blue cow" and one was "new blue cow" and woe betide the individual who mixed them up! Luke's the same way, I guess. He wants_ his _rancor._


	8. Chapter 8

_Admiral Piett's quarters_

 _The Executor_

 _In Orbit around Naboo_

 _10 hours later_

Admiral Piett carefully placed his gray cap on his head and glanced briefly at his bed. For a second, he considered hiding his loth-bat plush, which was placed at a perfect right angle to his pillow. But no, his quarters were safe, and private, enough. Usually he left his plush with his favorite counselor droid but last night, after an intense session, he had crept back to his quarters with his loth-bat clutched nervously in his hands. The events of yesterday had been traumatic and unsettling, and he needed the presence of his comforting bat to sleep.

And indeed he had slept well, a relief as today would no doubt be as challenging as yesterday.

His chrono chimed and he hurriedly palmed his door opened. He was due on the bridge in five minutes.

As usual, the officers he met snapped to attention, and indeed the atmosphere of the ship seemed normal enough. That was a relief; it appeared that few were aware of how serious the Emperor's injuries were, or that his brain had apparently decided to forgo rationality and was now embarked on a dizzying journey which involved rancor plushies and dweezel sticks.

What was a dweezel stick, anyway? He had given the orders to have dweezel sticks prepared and delivered, but had not waited around to see them consumed by his liege.

And his lord's son. What was that all about? Darth Vader had a _son_?

The admiral shook his head slightly as the elevator door opened into the bridge. He froze, as Lord Vader and his son Luke (Skywalker was the surname, apparently – yet another mystery) stood in the corridor facing him.

"My Lord!" Piett stuttered after a moment, and then nodded nervously at Vader's son. He didn't know the boy's rank, or if he had a rank, or what he did for a living, so the protocol here was very confusing.

"Admiral," the youth responded brightly, "just the person we wanted to see. We've turned over the bridge to, uhhh ..."

"Captain Needa," Vader intoned.

"Right, and we'd like you to join us for a strategy session. Ok?"

Piett's eyes widened and he looked at his tall superior.

"That is an order, Admiral."

Ok, a direct order. That's what he needed right now.

"Yes, my Lord."

/

 _The Imperial Diplomatic Suite_

 _7 minutes later_

"Kid!" the tall Corellian shouted boisterously as Skywalker stepped through the door, followed by Vader and Piett.

The pilot, along with his hairy, and much taller, Wookiee companion, was seated on a large couch; both sentients had tankards of greenish fluid clutched in their hands. Piett stared at them incredulously.

"Captain Solo," Vader snapped in an odd echo of the admiral's thoughts, "are you drunk? It is only 9 in the morning!"

The rangy man rolled gracefully to his feet even as Princess Leia approached from a nearby doorway, "Nope, not drunk, won't be drunk. Just enjoying the amenities."

He glanced at the tiny princess and made a slight bow, "Can I get you some ale, Princess?"

She smiled slightly even as she shook her head, "No, not my liquor of choice and Lord Vader is correct, it is early to be drinking. For normal people, anyway."

The woman turned now and her eyebrows arched slightly, "Admiral Piett, I believe? We weren't properly introduced last night. I'm Princess Leia Organa."

Piett bowed his head at exactly what he deemed the acceptable angle toward a known Rebel who was the apparently honored guest of Lord Darth Vader.

"Admiral Piett, your Highness."

"Leia is my twin sister," Vader's son said suddenly and happily.

Piett's mouth dropped open, his face paled, and he suddenly and surprisingly lost it. He turned toward Vader and with a courage that didn't just border madness, didn't just include lunacy, but went right over the waterfall of suicidal insanity, he found himself shouting incredulously, "Leia Organa, the Rebel, is your daughter? What really happened to the Emperor out there, Lord Vader? Did you cut off his legs? Hit him in the head? Are you a Rebel? Have you betrayed us all?"

He then stopped, panting. Part of him was terrified, but most of him was filled with a ferocious indignation. He had stood silent while his masked superior had strangled underlings, some imbeciles, but some poor souls who had merely made a mistake on one of his lordship's bad days. He had quietly kept the _Executor_ a model of decorum and efficiency and organization in the midst of Vader's dark moods. And he was sick of it. Sick. Of. It!

There was an awed silence as Piett straightened more, waiting for the talons to close around his neck.

"I like him!" Skywalker said in a delighted tone.

Leia Organa smiled, "I do as well. An excellent choice, Lord Vader."

Piett's stiffened demeanor relaxed slightly into bewilderment, even as the princess continued, "As for your questions, Admiral, I cut off the Emperor's legs while aiming for his midsection. One of our compatriots hit Palpatine in the head with a box and caused the fall which misdirected my aim, and also the head trauma."

"And speaking of head trauma," Solo commented as he wandered toward the kitchen, apparently unconcerned that Piett might be strangled at any moment, "how is our resident psychopathic Sith Lord doing today?"

Piett shot a startled look at Vader, who responded calmly, "The captain refers to the Emperor, Admiral."

"Sith Lord ..." the admiral murmured softly. The Emperor was a Sith?

"Well, he's maturing," Skywalker explained, "to the point that the med droids and Doctor Sert say he's acting and talking like an 8 or 9 year old. He can be kind of demanding sometimes but he's still a nice person. I mean, he's still Light."

The Wookiee roared suddenly, and Solo nodded, "Yeah, Chewie, that's a great point. What happens if he suddenly reverts to being his usual homicidal, evil, lightning spewing self? I assume he could wreak a fair amount of havoc even without legs."

"We're taking turns," Leia explained, "8 hour shifts of two trained Force users at a time guarding him. Luke and Vader just took a shift, and now Ahsoka and Kenobi are on. Then I'll go on with Luke for another shift. Poor Luke."

"Hey, at least I got my rancor plush back," the blue eyed youth said with a brilliant smile, even as he gestured. The rancor plush, looking rather worse for wear, leaped up off a nearby chair and began cavorting around in the air, to Piett's bemusement.

"You took the rancor back?" Vader inquired in surprise. "And he agreed?"

"W..e..l..l, I found another one and offered to trade, and he said yes. He really does seem like a pretty nice guy right now. In a weird, brain damaged sort of way."

"Uh, Luke, you can put the rancor down."

"Oh, right."

There was a rumble of concern from the Wookiee, and Solo spoke again, "But you can't keep guarding him for eternity!"

"No, of course not," Skywalker said soothingly, "but his mental state, and his apparent age, are changing very rapidly. Within a few days we'll have a better idea of what is going on in that ugly, wrinkled, confused head, Han."

There was a pause, and the blue eyes grew suddenly bright with determination, "Cold blooded murder of a helpless man is not the way of the Alliance, Han, or of the Jedi."

"But I'm not a Jedi, or an official member of the Alliance, Luke," Solo argued. "And pardon my Rodian, but waiting for Palpatine to recover, or not, is just stupid and idiotic and dumb and asinine ..."

Vader suddenly interrupted in the most startling of ways. The tankard of ale suddenly flew out of Solo's hand and floated over to the Dark Lord of the Sith, who gazed into its murky depths curiously.

"What kind of ale is this, Solo?"

"Corellian, _of course_ , your Lordship," the man responded with an incredulous lift of an eyebrow.

The huge black helmet nodded, the hand gestured to send Solo's tankard back to the man, and then focused on a bottle and glass on the counter, both of which suddenly floated over to the Dark Lord. Vader then proceeded to reach under his mask and _lift it off_!

Piett gaped in disbelief as the black mask which had gazed upon him so ferociously for so long rose up off Vader's head and was set tidily on a nearby chair.

Underneath was the face of a man – scarred, yes, but the features were clearly recognizable as human, the blue eyes shown with the same hue as the man's son. And ...

"Father," Skywalker yelped happily, "look at your hair!"

The pale lips widened with a rather embarrassed smile, even as the black glove ran through the centimeter long dark blond hair on Vader's head.

"You managed to work on his hair, Luke?" Leia asked in what Piett, in the midst of his incredulity, decided was a rather professional tone.

"Yeah! In a way, easier than the kidneys, because the hair really wants to grow, you know? Rapid cell division. I worked on the underlying scar tissue ..."

Even as this technical conversation continued, Darth Vader, Lord of the Sith, poured the ale into his glass, lifted it to his lips, and took a long swig.

The blue eyes closed beatifically and he intoned solemnly, "I haven't tasted anything that good in 20 years."

The hair conversation ended abruptly, followed by definite gagging noises from Luke, and Leia said in disbelief, "Better than that blue milk pudding we ate the last time we were together?"

Solo groaned aloud and slung an affectionate arm around the dark haired woman, "Oh Leia. I will love you until the day I die, but we really need to work on your palate. Corellian ale is so far above blue milk pudding in every way that I just ... just ..."

"I love blue milk pudding," Skywalker said indignantly.

"Blue milk comes from banthas," Leia Organa chimed in, "and my counseling plushie is a bantha."

"I loathe banthas," Vader said darkly, his scarred forehead creasing. "They are smelly beasts. And they remind me of sand ..."

"Why does everything have to be about sand!" Organa demanded indignantly, "It's like this obsession with you people from Tatooine. Sand sand sand sand sand ..."

Piett shook his head just slightly. And pinched himself. Pain. Yes, regrettably he was awake, not curled up with his loth-bat having a nightmare.

"Oh Admiral!" the princess said, breaking off her diatribe. "I apologize for getting distracted. We have a proposition for you."

Piett gulped slightly.

"A proposition?" he repeated weakly.

"Oh yes," Skywalker said enthusiastically. "Truth is, Father is rather sick of the whole helping run the galaxy thing and the Emperor is either going to be weird or dead, so we were thinking maybe you could take over as ... not as the Emperor, exactly, but as the de facto leader of the Empire."

There was a long pause as Piett waited, resignedly, for some kind of punchline. Naturally there would be bizarre jokes emanating from this band of crazies.

Instead, Leia Organa, and Luke Skywalker, and even Lord Darth Vader, just looked at him.

"Surely ..." Piett finally croaked, "surely you aren't serious."

"Indeed we are," Vader stated firmly, "You are a most competent individual, Admiral, and gifted with tremendous organizational abilities. You are also diplomatic and your tactical abilities are impressive."

"But ... but ... surely, my Lord, you should be the Emperor. Or perhaps one of your children? I'm not a Force sensitive, I'm not even a Grand Admiral ..."

"I don't want to be Emperor!" Vader interrupted, abruptly downing the rest of his ale and placing it down on a nearby table with a bang.

Piett winced.

"I spent my early years as a slave, and my next 15 years as a Jedi, and then I became a Sith Lord and nearly broke the galaxy and I'm tired of it. There are times when the weight of expectation is too much for any man. I want a vacation, or an extended sabbatical. I want to have _fun_. I want to wind surf, and go skiing on Hoth's mountains, and perhaps go diving in the deep caverns of Naboo. Can you understand that, Admiral?"

The admiral took a deep breath, "I don't understand much of anything that has happened in the last two days, my lord."

Leia Organa chuckled, "I appreciate your honesty, Admiral Piett. Please, why don't we leave the rest of the males to imbibe ale ..."

("Not me," Skywalker yelped indignantly.)

"... and I will tell you what we had in mind."


	9. Chapter 9

_The Golden Palace of Naboo_

 _Naboo_

 _2 weeks later_

"This way, Senator," the captain said, respectfully enough, to Pooja Naberrie.

Pooja forced herself to keep her face calm even as she stepped into the elevator, which began rising as soon as the door closed.

She hadn't actually been a senator for some time, ever since Emperor Palpatine had closed the Galactic Senate during the "duration of the current emergency." The Rebel Alliance had destroyed the Death Star shortly thereafter, and Palpatine had only tightened his harsh grip on the galaxy since then.

Pooja had chosen to retreat to Varykino, the family estate on Naboo, and keep her head down politically. She found plenty to do at Varykino, dealing with estate business, keeping the household running, and assisting her mother in caring for her failing grandparents. Then this morning, while elbow deep in shuura cake batter, she had been ordered to accompany this Imperial captain. He had escorted her onto the shuttle which had brought her here, to Emperor Palpatine's palace on Naboo.

Which was, of course, a ridiculous waste of resources. Palpatine came to Naboo all of once every three or four years, preferring to spend the vast majority of his time on Imperial Center. But that was Palpatine all over, Pooja fumed silently as the elevator stopped and the door opened. Selfish, demanding, self centered, didn't play well with others ...

She stepped out onto a landing pad on the roof and stared in surprise at the sentients waiting there already. There were, of course, the coterie of guards, though they were dressed in normal stormtrooper white as opposed to the red robes of the Imperial guard.

But oddly, two women were also waiting. One was a middle aged woman with dark hair mixed with gray; based on her face, she was perhaps 60 standard years of age. The other was an even older lady, a truly ancient lady, wrinkled of face and completely white of hair. The latter had a gentle smile on her worn face, and was sitting in a hoverchair.

Pooja frowned. This was getting weirder all the time.

A sound attracted her attention and she looked up, as did the elderly women and the several Imperial officers standing about. It occurred to Pooja that their body language was rather uneasy, and indeed the captain closest to her wore a look of more than mild confusion.

A shuttle came into view, hovered elegantly, then lowered gracefully onto the landing pad.

"Be at peace, my dear," the ancient lady said to the woman next to her.

"It's hard to be at peace, Grandmother," her granddaughter said softly, though Pooja could still hear her. "What does Palpatine want with us? It can't be good."

"Oh, dear Sheev, such a charming boy. He probably just wants to catch up on old times, maybe eat some crab with me. I haven't seen him in too long."

Pooja's eyebrows rose nearly to her hairline. Palpatine? _Charming boy?_

The ramp lowered. A slight hooded figure marched down with ramp, followed by another hooded figure, followed by a hoverchair carrying the official Emperor of the known galaxy. Behind the hoverchair stalked the menacing figure of Lord Darth Vader, causing Pooja to flinch.

The two figures reached Pooja and stopped, removing their hoods as they did so.

Pooja gaped incredulously, "Leia!"

This was impossible! Her friend and former co-Senator was a known Rebel. And yet here she walked, without bonds, and indeed Pooja glimpsed some kind of weapon at her waist.

"Pooja!" Leia responded, hugging her friend delightedly, then gestured to the man on her right, "This is my friend Luke."

"Luke?" Pooja thought with even more incredulity. There were rumors that a Rebel named 'Luke' had destroyed the Death Star. But again, if this were so, why was this man walking around loose?

She was suddenly distracted by a sudden shout of joy.

"Auntie Bilkin!"

The Emperor was leaning forward on his hoverchair, his face alight, his smile tremulous with emotion, his eyes weepy.

Pooja stared in disbelief at the normally malevolent Emperor's expression, then draw in a deep breath as she realized that Palpatine was missing his legs below the knee.

The ancient lady moved her hoverchair closer to the old despot, even as her granddaughter moved nervously with her.

"Sheev, precious Sheev," the ancient lady said, reaching forward to touch the cadaverous old man with her even more skeletal arms. "How good to see you again. It has been too long, my dear!"

"Oh Auntie Bilkin! I can't wait to eat crab with you again, to eat dweezel sticks ..."

"Oh, I still love a good dweezel stick, even though my teeth sometimes hurt. Linza, can you get us some dweezel sticks from the storage room right now ...?"

"Grandmama, we're not home right now," the woman bleated, her face pale with bewilderment and distress.

'Luke' smiled at her reassuringly, "We know how much the Emperor likes his dweezel sticks, Madame, so we brought some along on the shuttle. Don't worry."

Linza Bilkin (?) smiled back doubtfully.

Pooja shook her head slightly and then turned to look at Leia.

"Leia, what is going on?"

"Long story ..." the princess responded softly, and then stopped as the black, two meter monolith that was Darth Vader stalked closely to the group.

"I will escort the Emperor to his quarters while you speak with Senator Naberrie," the deep bass rumbled, even as Pooja twitched nervously.

"Thanks!" Luke said cheerily. "Do you have his plushies?"

The tall Sith grumbled softly and gestured, and Pooja watched in disbelief as two small stuffed animals, one a rancor and one a colo-claw fish, flew through the air and into the Emperor's lap.

The aged monarch crowed happily, "Auntie, do you see my plushies?"

"I do indeed, Sheev, very very nice. I have a starbird plushie of my own now. I never sleep without it ..."

Pooja watched the group move toward an elevator, and then turned toward Leia Organa and grabbed her arm.

"What in all the stars and moons and planets in the Outer Rim is going on?" she demanded explosively, "What is wrong with Palpatine? Where are his _legs_?"

Leia's eyes widened and she glanced at Luke, "I totally forgot about the legs, Luke. You don't suppose they are still in the hold of the _Falcon_?"

"Naw, I took care of them, with Chewie's help."

The former Senator from Alderaan relaxed in obvious relief, "Han would have never forgiven me if they'd stunk his precious ship up. Thanks."

"Leia!" hissed Pooja indignantly.

Her old friend looked startled, then sheepish, "Sorry, Pooja. Ok, first things first. I cut off Palpatine's legs with my lightsaber in an assassination attempt gone wrong. I was trying to kill him, but he got hit in the head and moved suddenly, which messed up my aim. But now he has major brain damage. Like major major brain damage. Like ..."

"He's totally loopy now," the youth chimed in cheerfully, "and his mental age ranges from 8 to 18 depending on the hour, even the minute. But in spite of the obvious confusion in there, incredibly enough he's become a great guy. We had a long talk just last night when he was in one of his 15 year old phases and he was telling me all about the starship trade on Naboo back in his youth. Fascinating stuff."

"And he told me all about the Senate," Leia said with a smirk of satisfaction, "about how it all works. I know I'm gifted politically but the man has so much going on in the deep, confused recesses of his mind. He just _gets_ it. He sees the way people look at each other, the way their minds work. It's really brilliant and not creepy now because he talks about it in a nice way, not in a 'ooh, I'm an evil Sith Lord bent on manipulating the galaxy' way. Our discussions are a privilege."

"I think politics are a dead bore," Luke responded in an irritated tone, "so thankfully he doesn't just talk politics. I mean, really, _politics_. If you want to feel nauseous, just spend a couple of hours talking politics ..."

"This from a man who will chatter for hours about hydrospanners and shielding issues? _That_ is boring. Boring ..."

"Could you _please_ stop _bickering_?!" Pooja snapped loudly.

The two looked at her, surprised. Then Leia smiled.

"Again, I apologize, Pooja. It's been a stressful few weeks. Let me make more formal interruptions. This is Luke Skywalker."

Pooja's eyes widened, "Skywalker? As in related to Anakin Skywalker?"

The two glanced at one another, and Luke nodded.

"My father," the youth said carefully.

The former Senator's eyes suddenly welled with tears, "You are Uncle Ani's son?!"

Her two companions glanced at one another in surprise, "Uncle Ani?"

Pooja smiled a little bashfully, "I'm sorry, we used to call him that. He was my Aunt Padme's bodyguard and I met him more than once. He spent some time at Varykino, our family estate, watching over her. He was such a wonderful person and so kind to us children ..."

Leia's face grew serious now, "He married her, Pooja."

Pooja Naberrie stared for a long moment, her eyes wide, her face growing pale, "You mean ..."

"Yes, she was my mother," Luke Skywalker said softly, "so you and I are first cousins."

Pooja's eyes filled with incredulous tears and then she found herself flinging her arms around the young man.

"I have a cousin, oh Luke, this is wonderful ..."

"Actually, you have two," Luke said cheerfully, "because Leia is my twin sister!"

Pooja stepped back to gaze with disbelief at her dark haired friend.

Leia smiled back, "Crazy, isn't it? To think that we were colleagues and friends and didn't know the biological connection."

"Oh Leia," Pooja was now openly crying, "I'm so happy!"

The three indulged in a quick cousinly hug, and then Pooja firmly pulled herself together in a business like manner.

"Well, Leia, uh ... Luke, this is all well and good, but I confess to being very puzzled by what is going on here. Why and how are you on good terms with Darth Vader? You ..." her eyes suddenly grew larger, her tone brittle with worry, "You haven't joined the Empire, have you?"

The twins glanced at one another, and Leia reached out a comforting hand, "Pooja, this is going to be hard for you to hear, but ... but Darth Vader used to be Anakin Skywalker. He is our father."

/-

 _Imperial Holonet Station_

 _Imperial City_

 _Imperial Center_

Admiral Piett ran a quick finger under his collar, which felt tight.

The bearded man to his left stirred slightly and spoke, "A wise man, Admiral, approaches the press as a sand fly approaches an apparently dead krayt dragon—cautiously, but optimistically."

Piett turned to glare at Obi-Wan Kenobi, "Did you just compare me to a sand fly, General?"

The old beard trembled as the Jedi fought to suppress a smile, "My apologies, Admiral. It is merely a proverb."

Piett groaned aloud. It was bad enough he was going to be interviewed on the official Imperial network. It was even worse that he had to go on with an aged, ragamuffin Jedi, one who spouted esoteric maxims and who was clearly in Darth Vader's sights.

"Please tell me you don't bombard Lord Vader with similar proverbs of dubious provenance, General Kenobi."

Now the old face looked sad, "I did in his youth, and perhaps that was part of the problem. He had needs which I did not recognize, and I spent too much time lecturing and not enough time expressing my affection for him."

Piett twitched nervously. There were underlying currents here which he wanted no part of. He had his orders from Vader that Kenobi would be his nearly constant companion until the Sith Lord returned from Naboo. That was all he really needed to know, not complex and secret information about Darth Vader's tumultuous and bizarre past.

To the Admiral's relief, a bright eyed, red maned woman suddenly surged into the room with an enthusiastic smile.

"You're on, Admiral Piett. And, uh, Ben."

Ben. Right. Ben. His companion was to be known only as Ben for now.

"Thank you," Piett ground out, and rose to his feet.

Ten minutes later, his usually epic patience was wearing thin. Imperial Holonet Host Relinka Spetzv, today with blue hair, was apparently bent on making this interview a scintillating one by systemically misunderstanding and twisting his statements.

"So what you are saying," Spetzv said with a toss of her cerulean waves, "Is that you are taking over the military arm of the Empire."

Piett took a deep breath, "No, as I just said, I am merely providing leadership for the navy at this juncture as Lord Vader oversees Emperor Palpatine's recovery."

"So what you're saying," Relinka said relentlessly, "Is that you are more capable of leading the Navy than Lord Vader."

Firmus Piett actually paled.

"No, no, I am merely following Lord Vader's orders. He remains the leader of the Imperial Navy ..."

"So what you're saying is that you are as incompetent as a Corellian lobster..."

Kenobi interrupted now, "Blue is not your best hair color, Host Spetzv."

The woman's face suddenly grew blank, then concerned, "It isn't?"

"No, you would look much better in purple hair."

"I would look much better in purple hair."

"The entire galaxy is watching you with blue hair right now, which is embarrassing."

She shrieked now, a horrible sound, clasped her hands to her head and raced out the room, even as she cried out, "Get my hair stylist here, now!"

"Thank you," Piett said to Kenobi. Ok, having a Jedi around might be a good thing after all.

 _Author Note: Life has been busy and my writing has slowed down. Ah well. I think the next chapter will be the last for this fanfic. Thank you for reading, reviewing, and following. And to my dear husband, many thanks for editing and awesome ideas! Oh, the "What you're saying is" bit at the end is a take-off of an unintentionally funny interview between Jordan Peterson and Cathy Newman. At least, I think it is funny, and it has spawned some hilarious memes._


	10. Chapter 10

_Naboo  
5 months later_

In the shadows of the grotto, Anakin Skywalker floated in water as clear as air.

Around him swam myriad colorful fish, who darted in and out of the deeper darkness of the cave which penetrated into the hill behind him.

It was a glorious experience, this, to be free of armor. Yes, his body was still scarred, but he could breathe with the simple air mask over his face, and his prosthetic feet and legs did a fine job of moving him through the water like an edgehawk diving through the rarified atmosphere of Lothal.

It was, he mused as he propelled himself gently through the water, a sign of how much he had changed that his thoughts had become positively _poetic_ at times.

" _Father?"_

Anakin reached out towards Luke, who had penetrated more deeply into the darkness of the flooded cave.

" _I'm getting hungry,"_ the son stated through their bond, " _and when I get hungry, I get grouchy."_

" _Very well,"_ the father replied with a twinge of amusement, " _though I'm afraid all we have in our packs on shore are ration bars."_

 _"Oh, I'm sure we'll find something a little more palatable."_

The boy swam out of the shadows, his rather long blond locks flowing in the gentle tides, and led the way out into open water and around the rocks which jutted out from the shore.

Anakin dove underneath and swam firmly, his body slicing gracefully through the water, his gaze focused with suspicion on the Nabooian octopi which were skittering around with their beady eyes fixed on his blue swim trunks.

 _"Just try and grab them with your little beaks,"_ he thought, " _it'll be fried octopi for lunch, even if you are a protected species!_ "

With a smirk, he reached the shallow water and pushed his legs hard against the floor of the sea, leaped three meters into the air, did a double flip, and landed with a thump on the beach.

Applause greeted him.

"Very nice, very nice!" his daughter said with a grin, standing up from her beach chair.

Anakin shook his head incredulously, which had the helpful effect of flinging water off his face. In the two hours since he had left this secluded cove and swam into the water, the beach had been transformed.

A white starship sat in regal splendor in a grassy cove nearby, along with several atmo-only hovercraft. Many large blue and green umbrellas were installed on the beach, under which numerous familiar sentients stood, sat, or lounged on colorful chairs. The smell of cooking food filled with the air, and various Naberrie relatives were chattering noisily. Near him, the truly ancient Lady Bilkin was standing with pale legs boldly displayed, splashing in a few centimeters of water and smiling beatifically.

And in that moment, the Force presences of the individuals in question bloomed into full glory. With a startled glance to one side, Darth Vader/Anakin Skywalker noted the presence of his former master, Sheev Palpatine, who was seated on a beach chair with his prosthetic legs stretched out casually on the sand. The old man winked at him, obviously amused that he had successfully blocked the Force presences of a couple dozen people from his former apprentice.

Anakin sighed in disbelief. Palpatine, now that he was no longer shielding his presence, shown Light in the Force like a supernova. Only Luke was brighter.

Anakin reached out with the Force and a green towel leaped into his hand. He began drying himself vigorously even as he looked around incredulously. This was supposed to be his special time with his son, not to mention that swimming with Nabooian sea life was one of the activities on his so called "Pail List", and here were a bunch of people messing everything up ...

His son-in-law, Han Solo, stepped forward now and handed the former Darth Vader a glass bottle. Anakin took a deep and happy sniff, and raised it to his lips. Corellian ale, of a most wondrous vintage.

With a nod of thanks at Solo, he sighed resignedly and lifted a nearby empty beach chair into the shade of Palpatine's umbrella. He sat down with a thump.

"Anakin," the old, formerly evil, now happy and nice, old man said.

"Former master," Anakin responded, snarkily.

The aged face smiled slightly and lifted his blumfruit juice to his lips, "Did you enjoy your swim, my old friend?"

Skywalker leaned back with a smile, "Yes, it was wonderful. So, how did you find me?"

The old man closed his eyes and moved one wrinkled hand into the sun, apparently enjoying the radiative heat, "I didn't. Your daughter did, though she found you through your son. I'm afraid my knowledge of Force powerful twins is limited, but I suspect your children could be at opposite ends of the galaxy and still unerringly find one another."

Leia, who had been conversing softly with her twin, now moved under the shade of the umbrella and sat down in her own chair.

"Enough chit chat, Father," she stated firmly. "We have a political issue to discuss."

Anakin groaned aloud, then downed more of his ale. He was going to need it.

"I thought things were going well on Coruscant," he responded sulkily.

Leia sighed, "Yes and no."

Her father's eyes narrowed, "Is Dangor giving you any difficulty, my daughter?"

The princess shook her head slightly, "Again, yes and no. He pays me lip service but the problem is that …"

"There is confusion about who holds the position of leader of the Empire," Palpatine finished for her, his body language relaxed, his blue eyes intent.

Anakin frowned, "I have made public service announcements, as has … Sheev."

"Yes," Leia agreed quickly, "But it's not enough. The Emperor has graciously indicated that for the duration of his medical recovery, you are in charge. And you have graciously indicated that during your extended absences from Imperial Center, Admiral Piett commands the military, and Dangor, with the assistance of the Organas and a number of other allies, leads the beauracratic and civilian arms of the Empire. That worked for the first two months, but now … now there is much whispering behind closed doors, and even more open mutterings in the public sector and Holonet. The confusion as to who leads the government must be addressed. Is this still an Empire? Or is it a Republic? If it is an Empire, who leads it? You, or the Emperor? Should someone else take over? These are major issues between the various leaders of the Imperial fleet and Stormtrooper legions, and we fear that if we ignore these issues, a major schism will develop, resulting in civil war and the death of many civilians."

"And that is not acceptable," Palpatine said, his blue eyes grave. "You and I, my friend, have done such great damage. My initial suggestion was that I be publicly executed for my crimes against the peoples of the galaxy, but your daughter has rejected that option."

"Absolutely not," Leia responded briskly.

The old man's eyes teared up, "You are entirely too generous, Princess Leia. I am responsible for such suffering in this galaxy, for the death of so many."

"You aren't responsible," Luke commented, suddenly stepping under the umbrella and sinking crosslegged into the sand, "Your alter was. And he is dead and gone, thanks to your head being whacked hard with a plushie box."

"Nevertheless …" Palpatine began.

Leia interrupted firmly, "Even if we felt it was morally correct to execute you for your former self's actions, there is still the major problem of how we would go about such an execution. If you died suddenly and mysteriously, that would likely provoke just such a breakdown of civil order as we wish to avoid. If we executed you without trial, we would be as guilty of injustice as your former government. If we put you on trial, any defense attorney worth his pepper would leap on the reality that you experienced significant brain damage and are no longer the man who created the Empire. The trial would drag on for months, which would result in substantial unrest. No, that idea is a no go."

Palpatine looked at Leia fondly, "You are so much like your mother, Princess."

"Isn't she?" Anakin asked, and then began weeping openly, "So much like her, not just in looks but in political acumen. I valued Padme as a treasure, but little did I know how truly amazing she was in every way ..."

Luke quickly rose to his feet and threw his arms around his father, rocking him back and forth gently, "It's Ok, Father, it's Ok ..."

"I miss her so much ..."

Leia cast an alarmed look at her biological father, then glanced at Palpatine, "Now what?"

"Just let him calm down," the Emperor said with his own eyes brimming with sympathetic tears, "and then we will present your Plan."

/-

 _The Petranaki Arena_

 _Geonosis_

 _3 month later_

"Humans, Twi'leks, Hutts, sentients of all manners of being, this is Cray Shifton, coming to you live from the Petranaki Arena on Geonosis. Today is _the_ day, the long awaited day when the Emperor of the galaxy, Emperor Palpatine, battles his servant Lord Darth Vader. This is, of course, the fight of the century, nay, the millennia, as the winner of this duel will be the undisputed leader of the known galaxy. In order to better explain the ensuing fight, I have two Force sensitives here in the booth. First, General Obi-Wan Kenobi, welcome. What can you tell us about today's battle?"

"Well, um ..." Kenobi stroked his white beard carefully, "This is a most unusual situation, Host Shifton. In the past, a junior Sith Lord like Lord Vader would drop a crane on his master's head, or murder him in his sleep, or blow up his ship unexpectedly. An open battle, with clearly defined rules, is unusual."

"I see," Shifton said in an enthusiastic tone, "so what you are saying is that today's fight will be far more interesting than a usual final battle between two Sith lords."

Kenobi blinked, "I suppose you could put it that way, yes."

"And Ahsoka Tano," Shifton said, turning to the Togruta sitting on his other side. "You are not a Jedi, I understand, but you are an experienced Force user. I believe you are familiar with the parameters of today's fight?"

"Yes," Tano said clearly, her voice carrying across the parsecs, "I worked with both the Emperor and Lord Vader to arrange a fair fight. One important aspect of the contest is that I gave one of my lightsabers to each Sith Lord, as I have two, both white. This will ensure that neither combatant has a weapons advantage, as the two sabers are as identical as I could make them. The two will battle not to the death, but to submission, and the loser will not perish. In addition, they will restrict themselves only to the arena, so the tens of thousands of beings in attendance will not be in any danger."

"In the past, nexu and other ferocious beasts would battle the gladiators," Shifton said hopefully, "which would make the entire experience more exciting!"

Kenobi snorted openly, "Those poor beasts would find their innards plastered against the walls, Host Shifton. I assure you that both Emperor Palpatine and Lord Vader are so accomplished that the beasts in question would have little hope of prevailing against them."

"Thank you," Shifton said gravely. "Fifteen minutes, ladies and gentlebeings, fifteen minutes to go!"

/-

"I hate the grip on this thing," Darth Vader muttered irritably.

"It's got a white blade, which is delightfully symbolic," his daughter responded in a minatory accent.

"And I hate this armor. Do I really need to wear it?"

"Yes," Luke said, with a clear smirk on his face.

"And I hate the helmet," the younger Sith proclaimed irritably, balancing it on his hand and staring into its shadowed eyes.

"I quite like the grip," Sheev Palpatine said, testing his own lightsaber and swooshing it about in the air dramatically.

"You have small hands compared to me," Vader grumbled.

"Stop whining, Anakin," his old master responded with a smile. "Admit it, you've been wanting to beat me in a lightsaber fight for decades."

Anakin Skywalker stopped, considered, smiled reluctantly, "That is true, Master Palpatine.

/-

 _15 minutes later_

"And here they are! On the west side of the stadium, two meters of black cyborg awesomeness, Lord Darth Vader!

"And on the east side of the stadium, short but powerful, Emperor Sheev Palpatine, sporting his new transparisteel prosthetic legs! Can you share, General Kenobi, why the Emperor chose to go with see through legs?"

"Erm ..."

"I believe I can provide some insight on that, Host Shifton."

"Yes, Ahsoka Tano?"

"The Emperor told me that he had lived the last twenty years sporting a fashion look he described as 'lame in the extreme'. With the loss of his legs this year, he's decided to liven up his wardrobe and accessorize with various colored legs. I personally feel the nearly transparent legs will give him a 'leg up', so to speak, in the ensuing battle, as Lord Vader will have more trouble locating the Emperor as he moves."

"Who are your bets on, Tano?"

"Oh, Lord Vader, for sure, Shifton. He was my master long ago, and he's incredibly powerful. I'm sure he will prevail."

"And they are off!" Shifton yelled.

/-

On the dusty floor of the arena, the two men circled, white sabers held high, bodies tense.

Then, with a dramatic roar, Vader leaped forward. The two sabers clashed, and the two forms, one short, one tall, spun around one another.

Behind and around them, the sentients watching this great battle rose to their feet, cheering and howling.

For a minute, Vader seemed he would easily prevail with his longer reach. Palpatine was forced back and back and back, but then the smaller man did a double twisting somersault over Vader's head. The younger man spun quickly, but his cloak was partially cut off by his opponent's blade.

 _"Thanks!"_ Anakin sent to Sheev. " _That stupid cloak is really so annoying."_

" _You're welcome,_ " the other replied, even as he exchanged another flurry of blows with Vader. " _I'm afraid when my alter self suggested the cloak long ago, it was mostly for dramatic effect."_

Again, Vader moved forward, pushing the Emperor back. Sheev Palpatine struggled, tripped, and fell. The lightsaber was knocked from his grasp. Then, in a move which caused the assembled crowd to gasp and nearly fall silent, the Emperor raised both hands and began hurling bolts of purple lightning toward his opponent! The bolts flashed into Vader's cyborg body and ran up and down his arms and legs.

Vader froze and his entire body began shuddering in near hysteria.

" _Oh ... oh, that tickles ... I'm dying, stop!"_

 _"Tickles? I'm sorry, let me try a slightly different voltage and frequency ..."_

 _"Oh ... oh that is much better. I feel like my remaining arm muscles are experiencing a deep massage ..."_

 _"Yes, I've been working with Aunt Bilkin using my low voltage Force Lightning and her muscle flexibility is much improved..."_

 _"I think I need to finish this up, former Master. Are you Ok with that?"_

 _"Go ahead, my dear friend."_

With a final leap forward, Anakin's white blade scythed forward and cut off Palpatine's prosthetic legs at the knee.

 _/-_

 _"_ And the Emperor is down! The Emperor is down! Darth Vader has won the battle! He is now the Emperor of the known galaxy. And the crowd has gone wild. What a battle, folks, what a battle!"

/-

 _In the medical area in the bowels of the arena_

 _10 minutes later_

"Are you all right, Sheev?"

"Yes, yes, Aunt Bilkin. What do you think I should go with next? Green legs, or red?"

"Oh, I think green, my dear. It reminds me of Naboo more than red."

"Very well. Med droid, can you kindly attach my green legs?"

"Yes, your Highness."

"Ah, I'm merely Private Citizen Palpatine now. Vader is Emperor."

"Not for long, thankfully," Anakin grumbled irritably. He had been unenthusiastic about this entire contest, which would give him firm control as Emperor of the galaxy. He certainly had no intention of holding the position indefinitely.

Palpatine smiled, his eyes fixed with amusement on Luke Skywalker, who was chatting animatedly with his twin sister at one end of the room.

"Not for long indeed. So Anakin, have you considered Mara Jade as a possible wife for your boy?"

Anakin looked at him blankly, "What!?"


	11. Chapter 11

_Refresher #5_

 _Imperial Ball Room_

 _Imperial Palace_

 _Imperial City_

 _Imperial Center (being changed to Coruscant)_

 _2 weeks later_

Mara Jade stared into the long mirror in the elaborate refresher and tweaked a black curl which kept twisting in an aberrant and annoying manner.

She was naturally a slender, green eyed redhead, but since she was going to try to assassinate the Emperor of the known galaxy, she had put significant time and energy into looking as much unlike herself as possible.

Her eyes were brown instead of green, thanks to the most up to date eye lenses. She had made herself up with mouth and nose contours so that the shape of her face was altered subtly. She had even added some padding to her pink dress (pink? Ew, pink!) to add the illusion that she was 10 kg heavier than she actually was.

And now she was armed, thanks to her little trip to refresher 5. She'd been able to infiltrate this refresher the night before through the service ducts and left a host of lethal weaponry there, so that she could arm herself after entering the dancing chamber. Naturally all guests were scanned for weapons upon entering the ball room, but now she was home free.

She bared her teeth at her reflection. She would take out that monstrous, pretentious, duplicitous, traitorous eopie, or die trying! Darth Vader, Emperor of the Known Galaxy? Preposterous. Disgusting.

She had been in deep cover on Ryloth, infiltrating a Free Ryloth cell, for most of the last year, and had been only peripherally aware of the insane things happening at the very top echelon of the Empire.

When she had heard that Palpatine had been injured many months ago, she bit her tongue and pretended to be delighted with the Free Ryloth traitors. Subsequent reports were confusing in the extreme, but she had ascertained that Palpatine had retreated to his home on Naboo for recovery. That made sense, and she had continued her mission with typical single-minded devotion, secure in the knowledge that her Master would, as always, rise from his struggles not just as strong, but stronger.

But then, two wretched weeks ago, the entire galaxy had been treated to that disgusting 'duel' at the Petranaki Arena on Geonosis. She had watched, open mouthed, as her master was apparently, rapidly, defeated by Darth Vader. And then the idiots on the Galactic Holonet station had proclaimed Darth Vader, the black cyborg, the servant of the greatest man to ever live, as the Emperor of the galaxy!

It was not to be borne. She would avenge the insult against the honor of her master if it killed her.

That phrase kept repeating in her head – _if it killed her_. Reality was, it probably would kill her. Vader was a lot of things, but he wasn't stupid. And he had great instincts. Unless she actually managed to sneak up on him and stab him in the kidneys, or poison him, or spray poisonous gas into his wretched breath mask, or kick his knee out and then ... she didn't know ... scream at him so loudly that his brain exploded, she'd probably die.

But that was as it should be. She was Mara Jade, Emperor's Hand, and if she could not serve her master, she'd rather be dead.

As for the true location of Emperor Palpatine, she didn't know. Possibly, hopefully, he was hiding out somewhere, plotting his return. Certainly the individual who had lost that anemic duel was not her true master. It was all a trick, a vile trick.

She shook her black curls again and turned away from the mirror.

Vibroblades in both boots, check.

Poison dart in hair, check.

Poisonous gas cylinder disguised as gaudy necklace, check.

Tiny grenades concealed in gaudy black belt, check.

Vocal cords ready, check.

She heaved a deep sigh and centered herself as her Master had taught her to do, long ago.

She was ready.

/-

 _Outside the Imperial ball room_

Leia blinked at the painting on the wall for a long minute.

"It's very creative," she finally said in a hollow tone, "Really creative."

The Twi'lek ambassador beside her smiled widely.

"Princess Leia, I knew," he gushed excitedly, "the very moment I laid eyes on you _I knew_ that you had the soul of an artist."

Leia took a deep breath, then heaved a sigh of relief as Han Solo materialized abruptly at her side with a glass of purple hanava juice in his hand. She gratefully accepted it and took a long sip, struggling to find something to say which would combine truth with courtesy.

"Are those sea-mice?" Solo asked suddenly, his eyes fixed on the painting.

"Indeed," the Twi'lek said brightly, his brown eyes sparkling, his lekku twitching with excitement, "but not just any sea-mice, but vampire sea-mice!"

"Hmmmm ..." Solo said, stroking his chin thoughtfully, "and the fish – colo-claw, I believe?"

The ambassador actually jumped slightly from excitement, "What a fine eye you have, uh ..."

"Captain Solo," Leia said hastily, "my husband. And Han, this is Ambassador Tennet from Ryloth; he represents the Free Ryloth movement."

"He's also very interested in art," she added, probably unnecessarily.

"I am very impressed with the raw power in this painting." Han said gravely, "The dramatic, visceral image of green vampire sea-mice locked in mortal battle with a purple and pink colo claw fish. It's compelling."

Ambassador Tennet smiled slightly, "The sea-mice are chartreuse, Captain, not green, a common mistake. But other than that, you have described it perfectly. I should have known the Princess would choose a refined man for her mate in life."

Leia snorted in laughter, then managed to cover it with a fairly ladylike cough.

/-

 _The Ball Room_

 _Imperial Palace_

 _"I am dying here."_

 _"Father, stop grumbling."_

 _"I hate parties like this. Pretentious dorks dressed in finery ..."_

 _"Leia says this is an important affair. This ball is a way to reach the upper echelons of Coruscanti society ..."_

 _"I know what your sister says and of course she is right. She's as brilliant politically as your mother. I just wish I didn't have to stand around in this stupid armor and this stupid breathing mask! I can't even eat any of the delicacies! Did you see they are serving star squid appetizers? I love those."_

 _"Father, you are whining."_

 _"I am_ not _whining."_

"Yes, you are, my friend," Palpatine suddenly said aloud.

Both Skywalkers shot the old man a startled glance.

He smiled at them gently, his soft blue eyes fond, "I have known you since you were 9 years old, Anakin. Do you really think I can't hear your thoughts when you are broadcasting your displeasure so loudly?"

Anakin blinked behind his mask and muttered softly, "My apologies, then. I will attempt to stop whining."

"We will save some star squid for you ..." Palpatine said in a reassuring tone, then suddenly spun around with a cry of joy.

"Mara!" he shrieked, throwing his arms around a tall, dark haired woman who had been inkling surreptitiously up to them, her hand lifted to her bulky necklace.

"Mara Jade!" Sheev Palpatine continued, his voice thick with emotion, "I'm so glad to see you again, my dear. I confess I'd ... oh it is terrible to have to admit this, but I lost track of where you were. I am so glad to see you again."

Mara stared at the old man with horrified eyes.

It looked like her master, down to the very last wrinkle. And she had memorized those wrinkles, memorized the scars from some duel her master had fought with a long forgotten evil Jedi Master.

But the eyes were all wrong! Instead of sickly yellow, they were a lovely and luminescent blue.

And the expression was one of fondness, not the Emperor's habitual expression of barely concealed, or not concealed at all, boredom or irritation, or malevolent gloating, or awe-inspiring rage.

Mara's heart quailed within her. What had happened to her Emperor?

"Master?" she whispered softly, doubtfully.

"I am no longer your master, my dear," he responded gently.

She shot a hate-filled look at the looming cyborg at her right. She would die rather than bow to that monstrosity.

"I am not your master either!" the bass voice exclaimed, sounding rather horrified.

Mara glanced uncertainly at the last member of the threesome, a boy of her own age with dark blond hair and blue eyes.

He returned the look with equal uncertainty.

"Oh, I'm forgetting my manners," Palpatine said suddenly, "I apologize. Mara, this is Luke Skywalker. Young Luke, Mara Jade, a dear protégé of mine."

Mara straightened and took on a look of professional calm. She didn't know what was going on, but her Master wished her to be polite, presumably, to this long haired Outer Rim bumpkin. (She recognized the accent as either Rylothian or Tatooinian.)

"Skywalker," she said politely, extending a gracious hand.

"Jade," the boy replied, coolly.

Their fingertips had just touched when Palpatine spoke again.

"I was thinking you two should get married!"

/-

 _5 minutes later_

 _Imperial Ballroom_

"Are you sure, Leia?" Bail Organa asked worriedly, "It's rather valuable wine ..."

"Yes, please, Papa, serve it right now. It _is_ valuable and will provide a welcome distraction."

Leia glanced around at the assembled guests, most of whom were gazing with open, rabid curiosity at the door through which Palpatine, Vader, Luke, Han, and Mara Jade had disappeared a few minutes ago.

Breha wafted up elegantly, "We're going to raffle servings of moonglow now, my love. That will help distract the guests as well."

Leia looked startled, "Moonglow?"

"Yes, Sheev's idea – we're going to use the funds to assist poverty stricken Gungans in Sector 43."

Leia heaved a sigh of relief, "Great idea. Thank you both."

"You know it is our privilege, my love," Breha said with a smile.

Leia nodded, turned, opened a door, and marched into the room where Luke was in the midst of a panic attack. The door closed behind her.

"Well, that was nice, Luke, really nice," his sister said acerbically.

She patted him on the arm and said firmly, "Just keep your head down between your knees and you'll stop feeling so faint."

She straightened and looked at Mara, "Really, _men_!"

"I am entirely to blame, Princess Leia, Luke, Mara," Sheev Palpatine said mournfully, "I'm afraid my head injury badly affected my filter, and I just blurted it out ..."

"There was no need for Luke to get all weak in the knees," Leia responded firmly. "You've managed to bollix up this incredibly important political event!"

Skywalker lifted his head now and leaned, somewhat shakily, against the chair on which he was huddled, "How would you like it if someone you admired suddenly said you should marry a person who had snuck into the ball to assassinate your father?"

Mara, who was standing to one side, arms crossed, jerked in disbelief.

"Your father?" she sputtered suddenly.

"Yes, Luke is my son," Darth Vader explained gravely, then gestured at a nearby table, "You did bring quite a few impedimenta in the planning of my demise."

Leia Organa strode over to the table and stared down for a minute, then carefully picked up the poison dart which had been holding Mara's hair up.

"Does this have poison in it?" she asked curiously, lifting it to stare at the bulb.

"Yes," Mara ground out.

Organa turned to her and smiled slightly, "Cool!"

"Cool? Cool? She tried to kill Father and you are cool with that?"

Organa turned back to the boy and frowned, "Vader cut a swath of terror and destruction across the galaxy for literally decades, Luke. There are many people who want him dead for entirely valid reasons."

She turned now to bend a stern stare at the black behemoth, "No offense intended."

"That is regrettably most true," Vader said rather absently as he glanced toward the door.

A moment later, a small R2 unit trundled through, carrying a tray with various snacks on it.

"Star squid," Vader crowed (yes, crowed, Mara thought in complete bewilderment.)

The next moment she was even more flummoxed as the Sith reached up, removed his helmet, and floated a squidly snack into his mouth.

Mara choked openly, "You ... you don't need the mask?"

"Not anymore," Vader said cheerfully and rather thickly, then swallowed the squid.

"The twins have healed me almost entirely," he added.

"Twins?"

"Luke and Leia are my twin children."

Mara's teeth clenched, and she snorted rather like a bull rancor.

"What happened?" she demanded after a moment, turning to her Master.

"Please, my master," she added after a moment, softly and pathetically, "what happened to you?"

"Oh, my dear Mara," Palpatine said, his blue eyes sympathetic, "it is a long story but the most important reality is that several months ago, I was hit very hard in the head with a box full of plushies."

"Plushies," Mara repeated hollowly.

"Yes, and I got my colo claw plushie that day," Sheev said happily, reaching under his vibrant green cloak and pulling out a worn fishy plush toy.

Mara blinked, then turned toward Leia with a pleading expression on her face.

The princess spoke, "When Emperor Palpatine was hit in the head, he experienced massive brain damage. The only part of his brain which was fully functional was a persona he created back in the days of the Old Republic. A persona who was kind and gentle. So ... Emperor Palpatine, the former ... ah ... version of him is, effectively ..."

"Dead," Mara said, her expression horrified

"Yes," Sheev said, "My former self is indeed dead, which is all to the good. Because I was a total jerk."

Mara Jade burst into tears.


	12. Chapter 12

_Guest Suite #9_

 _Imperial Palace_

 _3 hours later_

Mara Jade huddled on a black couch in the main room of Guest Suite #9.

She had taken off her stupid pink dress, taken a quick water shower in the refresher and washed out the dye in her hair, cleansed her face carefully to remove the weird make-up job, removed her brown eye lenses, put on a practical gray synthsilk uniform, and now was miserably out of things to do.

She could eat, of course. There was an apparently working food/drink unit in the small kitchen. But if she ate, she'd probably throw up. Her stomach was very unhappy right now.

On one hand, vomiting all over a random room in Emperor Vader's palace was vaguely appealing, but some stupid little cleaning droid would just take care of it anyway. And she hated being sick like that.

Mara gazed mournfully out the transparisteel window at the departing ships carrying the rich and influential guests of the ball to their fancy homes out there. The ball had gone on, and she had even heard shrieks of delight about moonglow as Emperor Vader himself had escorted her to this suite and firmly locked her in.

She might be able to get out – she had hard wired codes to many of the rooms in the Emperor's palace – but what was the point? She had nowhere to go. The man who had been her Master was effectively dead, and the agile, cheerful, blue eyed man left behind was just a ghostly husk of the former glory and power of Emperor Sheev Palpatine.

Again, tears welled up, and she brushed them away quickly. She never cried, but tonight it had just been too much, to stare into those eyes and see fondness instead of calculation ...

There was a click at the door, and she looked up, took a deep breath, and rose to her feet.

"Ah, so Lord Vader decided who would carry out the execution, I see," she stated, pleased that her voice didn't shake.

She knew of Boba Fett of course, as she knew of many agents, sycophants, Hutts, bounty hunters, warlords, and miscellaneous scum. She had a good memory, trained and honed for most of her lifetime.

"Naw," the man said, stepping confidently into the room and removing his helmet to reveal the pasty white face of a middle aged man.

"What is it today with people taking off their helmets?" Mara demanded irascibly. "Vader, now you ..."

"I can take mine off whenever, but I leave it on most of the time. It tends to strike fear and terror into my targets, but from what I know of you, there's no point."

Jade lifted a suspicious eyebrow, "Is that supposed to be a compliment?"

"Whatever," the armored form said, and reached for a bag hanging over one arm. "Here, Palpatine wanted me to give you this."

Mara stiffened as the bounty hunter reached into the bag and pulled out a soft, greenish-gray blob and handed it to her.

In a daze, she reached out and accepted it.

"What ... is this?"

"A Horranth plushie; Palpatine apparently thinks you need it."

Mara lost her fragile hold on her temper.

"What is it with plushies?" she shouted suddenly, causing Fett to flinch just slightly. "Plushies in a box which destroyed my master, a ... a colo claw plushie _held_ by former master, this is stupid stupid stupid stupid!"

She hurled the horranth against the wall and watched with vicious pleasure as it bounced off it and onto the floor.

She turned defiant eyes towards Fett and was surprised when he smiled at her, "See now, wasn't that satisfying?"

She glared, even as he dropped casually onto the couch and crossed his booted feet.

"Listen, I'm not going to say I get it, because I don't. You've got an unusual situation, losing your father figure not to death or imprisonment, but to brain damage. I lost my own father more than 20 years ago on Geonosis at the beginning of the Clone Wars. A Jedi Master chopped his head off, right in front of me. I'll admit it was traumatic. It was kind of hard to go on for a while there. I'm not a handholding, sympathetic guy like Luke Skywalker, but I can at least give you good advice."

Mara crossed her arms suspiciously, "Which is?"

"Figure out what you want in your life," he responded firmly, "Palpatine likes you and feels responsible for you, so you have some time, but you gotta figure out what you want. Your whole life has changed, I get that, but you can't just mope around. You've got skills, you've got resources, you've got contacts. You could do a lot of things in this galaxy, you just need to figure out what."

Mara's mouth hung open for a brief moment before she closed it with a snap, "Don't play games with me. I tried to kill Vader! There is no way I'm leaving this palace alive."

Fett chuckled aloud, "Palpatine is protecting you, and Princess Leia is as well. She's not a big fan of Vader, or at least the former version of Vader, and she gets it, the homicidal rage toward the man, I mean. Not that you can keep on attacking him – that wouldn't go down well."

Mara stared at him incredulously. She had been trained to read faces and expressions and voices and while Fett was gifted in many ways, he wasn't a diplomat or a professional liar, at least based on her recollection of his file.

The woman bit her lip.

"I ... I don't know what I would do," she confessed softly. "My whole life has been devoted to my Master and now he is effectively dead, replaced by that ..."

Tears threatened to overwhelm her, and the bounty hunter spoke up with sudden, surprising, rough sympathy.

"Hey, he's not an idiot, Palpatine. I know the whole plushie thing seems weird but I've got one of my own, a reek-cat, and they really do help. I've been around the new version of Palpatine enough to know the man is still brilliant, just a pleasant brilliant."

Mara closed her eyes, willing herself to stay calm, "But he's changed."

"Yeah, he has. We all change. Change is part of life."

He waited, but she wasn't apparently interested in further discussion.

"I'll let you think about it and I'll be back tomorrow. Truthfully, I've got some ideas for a woman of your skills, but you need to decide what you are interested in."

She stood silently while he left, then opened her eyes.

What _did_ she want to do with her life?

Her eyes fell on the horranth, lying pathetically on the floor. With a quick, impatient step, she grabbed it and prepared to throw it against the wall again.

Then she looked into its red eyes, sighed, and sat down on the couch recently vacated by Fett. It _was_ kind of cute. And she was so tired.

Mara flopped over, lifted her legs onto the couch, and drifted off to sleep, with her horranth plushie clutched in her arms.

/-

 _Emperor Vader's office_

 _3 weeks later_

Luke Skywalker groaned aloud, "I truly thought with the death of Jabba that the Hutt stranglehold would loosen on Tatooine."

Leia shook her head briskly, "Nature, and politics, abhor a vacuum, twin. And the Hutts have run Tatooine for a very long time. Nevertheless, the political situation is precarious and a minor push in just the right place should yield impressive dividends."

"So we have to go to Tatooine," he replied sulkily.

"We do not, Son," Anakin said in a clearly pleased tone, "because I've found two competent individuals to do the work for us."

He gestured toward a side door, and it slid open. Boba Fett walked through the door in full armor. Followed by ...

"Jade, is that you?" Leia demanded incredulously.

Both figures, both dressed in identical Mandalorian armor, removed their helmets. Indeed, one was Fett, and the other was Mara Jade.

"Um, this is weird," Luke said.

"It isn't weird," Jade said in a superior tone. "You just don't see the brilliance of our plan."

"It does seem odd to have you dressed up alike," Leia said diplomatically, "Perhaps you care to explain?"

Fett chuckled softly, "I have a reputation."

"A well deserved one ..." said Jade.

"As a fearsome bounty hunter, the most fearsome in the galaxy."

"He's developed that reputation for decades ..."

"I decided that Jade could help me do twice the work ..."

"If there are two of us, both pretending to be Fett!"

"Most miscreants are afraid of the Dread Bounty Hunter Fett ..."

"But no one would be afraid of the Dread Bounty Hunter Jade ..."

"So we will work in different places ..."

"So it will look like Boba Fett can be in two places at once ..."

"Which will smite them with even more fear!" Fett finished.

"Smite?" Luke repeated in a puzzled tone.

"Yes, Skywalker, smite. It's a word in a holodictionary ..." Jade said snarkily.

"Very well, you have your mission directives. Depart for Tatooine," Anakin said with a weary wave of his hand.

/

 _Imperial Palace_

 _Imperial City_

 _Coruscant_

 _2 weeks later_

"Just promise me you'll be careful, Luke," Leia said gravely as she walked her brother back to his apartment in the Imperial Palace. "The Gronda of Corellia aren't naturally aggressive, but they can be quite fearsome when protecting their young.

"I'll be careful, Leia," he said, giving her a quick hug, "and I'll be sure to contact you through the Force when I get back."

She smiled at him and proceeded farther down the corridor to the apartment she shared with Solo.

Luke turned, his mind fixed on the upcoming mission, opened the door into his quarters, and took a step forward.

The Force flashed a warning, and he leaped to the right just as a large bucket full of sand upended itself right where he had been standing a moment before.

He froze, open mouthed, as sand rained down onto the floor and began swirling around his apartment, propelled by a fan which had been set up on one side of the room.

A flimsie floated by and Luke, using the Force, snatched it out of the air.

" _Just a little sand from Tatooine, Skywalker, as a souvenir from our visit. I've heard how much you appreciate sand._

 _Mara Jade_ "

Luke clenched his teeth.

/

 _Imperial Palace_

 _Imperial City_

 _4 weeks later_

"You sure you don't want to stop by for a drink, Luke?" Solo asked worriedly, his eyes on his friend.

"All I want is to gulp down a liter of blue milk and collapse in bed, Han, but thanks. That was the most tortuous experience of my entire life ..."

"Don't exaggerate, Luke."

"I am not exaggerating, Leia! Why did you have to get married to Han so quickly? If you were still unmarried, there would be some distraction for the holopress and the families seeking power by marrying into our family. Did you see that crazy woman who gave me a sandworm in an aquarium? Why would I want a sandworm ...?"

"She thought it would remind you of Tatooine, Luke."

"The last thing I want, the LAST thing I want, is any reminder of Tatooine!"

"Except for blue milk, Kid."

"Oh, right ..." Luke ran a weary hand through his hair and sighed. "I just hate being the marital prize of the year, guys. That suits you far better than me, Leia."

"On the contrary, I endured it for years on Alderaan and I am done, which is part of the reason that I got married to Han quickly. The other reason, of course, is that I love him, and he is totally amazing, and hot ..."

"Ok, Ok, more detail then I want. Go away!"

Luke staggered to the door, palmed it open, and wandered wearily into his quarters.

He was so tired, and his brain so fried by the hours of highborn women schmoozing him, that he failed to note that some of the lights were on that should be off.

He reached into his cooling unit and greedily grasped the precious liter of blue milk, blue milk carefully transported all the way from Tatooine, blue milk mixed with blumfruit, the best he had ever tasted ...

He stopped, abruptly, opened the lid and stared incredulously into the depths of the jug. It was almost completely empty.

And on the cooler shelf was another small flimsie.

" _Sorry about the blue milk, Skywalker. I got thirsty. Jade."_

/

 _Random Office_

 _Imperial Palace_

 _Imperial City_

 _Coruscant_

 _The next day_

"I just don't get how she is entering my quarters," Luke said with a weary sigh.

Sheev Palpatine shook his head, "She has hard wired codes to most of the rooms in the palace."

"What?" Luke demanded indignantly. " _What?_ "

"That's ... uh ... very creepy," Solo said with a worried glance at Leia. "I mean, she is kind of homicidal toward Vader. Do we really want her with free access to the whole palace?"

Sheev sighed deeply, "I apologize to all of you for her actions. She is ... she is a good person, but I fear that I have done perhaps irreparable damage to her psyche. Perhaps I should talk to her ..."

"The strange thing," Leia said with a frown, "is that she seems to be exclusively targeting Luke. Our interactions are entirely civil, and she's never booby trapped our quarters, Han, I know that. And she even deals well with Vader. So why Luke?"

"Let me talk to her," Sheev Palpatine offered.

Luke hesitated, then shook his head, "No, it's Ok. She's not trying to hurt me, just annoy me. I can handle that. I understand she's been through a lot, and if she wants to throw sand in my rooms to manage her internal angst, I'm all right with that."

/-

 _Boba Fett's temporary quarters_

 _Imperial Palace_

 _Imperial City_

 _Coruscant_

 _3 weeks later_

"We'll need to infiltrate from the south side," Fett said, staring at the schematics on the holoterminal.

Jade nodded thoughtfully, "Yes, based on my analysis, they've grown lazy and overconfident the last few months. We should be able to climb that wall and ..."

The door to the room slid open suddenly and Luke Skywalker strode in, clad in black, his face thunderous as a storm cloud.

Fett actually stiffened slightly, his hand moving to his blaster, before he recollected who this was, and who his employer was.

"Skywalker?" he inquired in a puzzled tone.

The young man's eyes were focused on Jade, who now stood with a mocking smile on her face.

"You took my rancor plushie," the youth grated.

Jade's smirk only widened, "Yes, I believe I did. Such a nice plushie ..."

"I put up with your 'gift' of sand, and taking my blue milk, but this crosses the line, Jade," Skywalker grated coldly. "This means war."

And with that, he flung off his cloak and leaped toward Mara, fury in his eyes.

 _Author Note: Just to be clear, Luke's not going all Dark Side. He just needs his plushie back!_


	13. Chapter 13

_Boba Fett's Temporary Quarters_

 _The Imperial Palace_

 _Imperial City_

 _Coruscant_

Jade smiled wickedly as Skywalker hurtled toward her, then shifted expertly to one side to drive a pointy elbow into the youth's abdomen.

To her shock, he shifted position at just the right moment, and she missed! He slipped his right arm around her right knee, attempting a lock, but she disengaged.

From there, it was a free for all of Corellian stealth boxing and Chandrilan Martial Arts, mixed in with a minor dose of Dagoban mud wrestling without the mud.

Seven minutes and forty seconds later, Mara was beating her hand on the floor in the galactic signal for surrender with Skywalker holding her in a merciless headlock.

Leia walked into the room five minutes later, holding Luke's rancor plush in her right hand.

"Can you explain," she sputtered, "why your rancor plush was hidden ..."

She stopped now, amazed at the sight of the two combatants. Both were sitting against a wall, a meter apart from one another, panting for air. Both were holding their abdomens tenderly, and he could see bruises blossoming on both young faces. Both had frozen bags of quint-berries, which they moved around periodically to cool throbbing portions of their anatomy.

Fett sat on a nearby chair, helmet off, sipping a can of Corellian beer.

"Uh, what happened here?" Leia demanded in concern. "Do you need a med droid?"

"No." Luke stated firmly, reaching out with the Force to grab the rancor from Leia's arm. "Where'd you find it?"

"Jade just sent me a message telling me it was hidden in the ventilation vent of our refresher," she explained in bewilderment. "What happened?"

"I stole his rancor plush and he fought me for it," Jade said, grinning suddenly. "I have to tell you, Princess, your brother is a good fighter!"

Leia stared at her for a long moment, then glanced at Fett, who shrugged helplessly.

"And this is a surprise to you?" she asked politely.

"Yeah, I admit it is," Jade said, bending her right leg up and rubbing her shin carefully. "I was thinking hey, he's a farmboy from the back end of nowhere, up against me – I mean, I spent years being trained in hand to hand combat by the very best of the business. I am impressed!"

"He is a strong, trained Force sensitive, you know," Leia pointed out.

"I didn't use the Force," Luke said sullenly. "I didn't need the Force to take down this low down, despicable, plushie-napper."

Mara shot him an amused look, which shifted into a slightly guilty one.

"I apologize, Skywalker," she said genuinely, "for taking your rancor."

Luke glared at her, then sighed, "I forgive you."

There was a peaceful moment and then he said, "I don't get why you have it in for me anyway."

"You wanna know why?" Mara asked rhetorically.

She rolled to her feet, wandered into the kitchen, and emerged with two cups of water, one of which she handed to Luke.

"I have it in for you because all of this, Palpatine's injury, the total disarray of my life, is your fault."

"My fault?" Luke snapped indignantly. "Why is it all my fault?"

"Because you, Luke Skywalker, are a nice person!" Mara responded irritably, sitting down with a thump onto the floor again. "I mean, even here you were nice. You obviously could have done major damage, even killed me, but you didn't ..."

"Why is being 'nice' a problem, though?" Leia interpolated curiously.

"Because your brother, Princess, is the glue that holds this whole insanity together," Mara stated with a toss of her red hair. "I admire you for your intelligence and tenacity and commitment, but you aren't ... sweet. Your husband is a great guy, no doubt, but cocky and tends to rub people the wrong way. And Vader. Don't even get me started on Vader – he has the personality of a hungry Krayt Dragon. There is no way this whole conglomeration of disparate people would be able to work together without Skywalker providing the cohesion. That's why I have it in for you. That's why I can hardly stand to be around you."

She shot a glance at Skywalker, then sucked in a horrified breath.

The youth's arms were slumped by his side, his eyes were widened, his pupils dilated, his expression full of grief, "You mean ... you mean ... you don't like me?"

Mara's mouth dropped open and without conscious thought she sputtered, "It's not that I don't like you. It's because I like you that I don't want to be around you. It's complicated ..."

Luke's expression morphed instantly to a sunny smile, and he chuckled aloud, "Gotcha!"

Mara took a deep breath and turned to look at Leia, "There ought to be a law against that."

Leia laughed, "I know, right? I plan on dragging him into the Senate when I need a little help getting a bill passed. One look at that piteous countenance and they'll be eating out of our collective hands."

Fett finished his beer, put it down firmly, and stood up, "Well, all this is fun but I've got a mission and you look like you are down for the count, Jade, so I guess I'll go deal with that enclave of slavers ..."

"No, I'm coming too," Mara said, lurching a trifle unsteadily to her feet, "I know you've got medical supplies on the _Slave 1_ and we have a few days. I'll be fine."

Luke stood up as well with a minor groan, "So Jade?"

"Yeah?"

"When you get back, I'm calling in a favor for all the grief you've given me."

/-

 _Dex's Diner_

 _Coruscant_

 _4 weeks later_

"Try the Shawda sandwich, Mara, with a photon fizzle for a drink," Luke suggested cheerfully. "They're great!"

"Ok, that's fine," Mara said to the droid waitress, then cast a puzzled look around her. "So what's the deal here, Skywalker? I thought you were going to make me pay for the sand, and the rancor ... do you imagine I'm insulted by a back hole eatery in Coco Town?"

"Why do you have to be so negative all the time?" Skywalker inquired with a look of devilry in his eyes.

"I prefer to say that I'm realistic all the time," Mara shot back, even as FLO, the droid waitress, deposited plates of food in front of the couple.

"Dig in," Luke suggested cheerfully.

/-

 _Mara Jade's temporary quarters_

 _Imperial Palace_

 _Imperial City_

 _Coruscant_

 _5 hours later_

Mara walked through the door into the living area of her temporary quarters and sat down on the greenish-gray couch. (Which matched her horranth plushie, actually – what a coincidence!)

She found herself smiling, to her surprise. What had promised to be a revolting day had turned out to be quite pleasant. First, a quiet dinner at a Dex's Diner, where the food was excellent. Then Skywalker had taken Mara on a long flight around Imperial City in his own private two seat ship. Given that Luke Skywalker had managed to blow up the Death Star, it was not a huge surprise that he was an excellent pilot. But he had been surprisingly good company, as well. It was rare to interact with someone who loved ships as much as she did, and they'd spent a full hour arguing about shielding components.

Jade closed her eyes and leaned back. It had been a nice day, but she was tired.

Her com beeped and she scowled and reached for it. Her expression darkened even more as she noted who was calling her. Fett. She admired Fett and worked well with him, but they'd been working non-stop for weeks at this point and she had hoped for a couple of days off.

"Yes?" she asked wearily.

"Hey Jade, sounds like you had a nice day?"

She frowned in bewilderment, "How would you know?"

"Turn on the Imperial Holonet."

With a confused lift of her brow, Mara reached for the remote and turned it on.

"And now, a recap of the day's biggest story," gushed Relinka Spetzv, her purple hair moving randomly due to tiny robots glued to the strands. "Luke Skywalker, heir to the Imperial Throne, apparently has a new lady friend. We caught up with them at Dex's Diner in Coco Town ..."

Here the holo shifted to a long shot of the two, sitting at the table, Skywalker's face in full view, Mara's bright hair shining brightly and blocking her visage.

"We have not yet identified the lucky lady, but Skywalker and his 'friend' apparently went on a romantic flight around Coruscant. After weeks of speculation as to who would nab the most eligible man in the galaxy, it now appears an Unknown has appeared to capture the prince's heart!"

Mara was aware of a high pitched keening noise, and realized, belatedly, that it was emanating from her own mouth.

"This can't be happening ..." she said after getting her mouth working. "It can't. I'm an undercover agent. I can't be the subject of the rabid holopress ..."

Fett was openly laughing now, and Mara opened her mouth to snarl at him when Relinka smiled and said cheerfully, "And now, our fashion editor Felica Trosten!"

Felica was dressed in a gray outfit which Mara, her brain floating in a sea of disbelief, took far too long to identify. It was like the one she was wearing.

"Gentlebeings of all races and creeds," the blond woman gushed with a beatific smile on her blue lips. "The outfit I am wearing will shortly be _the_ outfit of the year. While we obtained no close-ups of the young woman's face, we did manage more than one clear holo of Skywalker's companion's outfit, a gray uniform which combines functionality with an elegance beyond my ability to adequately express. In a year when frills and lace are the mode, the Unknown's willingness to cast aside tradition in favor of a daring gray uniform is a clear indication that she is a truly worthy of Prince Luke's favor. The presence of pockets is especially avante garde ..."

Mara turned off the holo with a dazed push of the remote, and leaned back, stunned.

"I'm going to kill him," she said aloud.

"I'd like to see you try," Fett responded, with clear mirth in his voice.

/-

 _Alater-ka (Capital of Barab)_

 _Barab 1_

 _Outer Rim_

 _3 months later_

"This is going to hurt!" Luke thought as he fell 10 meters.

He was wrong. It didn't hurt. But it also wasn't his favorite experience in the world.

It had seemed like a good idea to spy on the group of angry reptilian Barabel mercenaries who were plotting to sabotage ships on Gamor in retribution for the Empire's new crackdown on the slave trade in this sector.

Luke had been _so tired_ of being on Coruscant, of being constantly dogged by Holonet reporters and enthusiastic single rich women. Throwing Mara Jade to the Holonet wolves had proven helpful, but there were still plenty of families bent on marrying themselves into the Royal Family. (Mara herself had threatened to kill him but he could tell she was softening toward him. They had a surprising amount in common. Maybe Sheev Palpatine hadn't been so far off ...)

Anyway, here he was, on Barab 1, in a factory, having been sniffed out, literally, by the Barab mercenaries. He'd taken down many of them with his lightsaber, but had been overwhelmed by blaster fire. To keep from being shot, he had jumped off a narrow catwalk, and was now wallowing in ...

Pudding.

Yes, the secret hideaway for this band of reptilian Barabel cutthroats was a pudding factory.

And not just any pudding ... what was that horrible, horrible smell?

Luke groaned aloud even as he treaded pudding. What was he going to do now? It wouldn't take long for the remaining villains above to spot him, and he was a sitting duck down here ...

In that moment, someone began firing from a still higher catwalk in the factory. There were screams of outrage and distress, and the dozen or so remaining sentients began firing up and away from Luke.

He pulled his lightsaber from his waist, turned it on (yes, it still worked in spite of the pudding clinging to the sides) and hurled it up to cut 3 of the sentients in half.

Several others were felled by blaster bolts and the remaining villains ran away, or tried to run away and slipped into the pudding also, where they began screaming and yelling.

Two minutes later, as he contemplated how to best get out of the vat of pudding, a rope was lowered to him even as Mara Jade hissed down, "Grab it, Skywalker!"

He grinned in surprise and delight, grabbed the rope, and swarmed up to the catwalk where Mara was standing, her red hair thrown up in a serviceable bun, her form cloaked in black which made her remarkably hard to see in the dimness of the chamber.

"Mara! What are you doing here?" Luke demanded.

"Saving your hide, Skywalker," she snapped back snidely. "Your father thought you might need some help."

Luke chuckled ruefully, "Guess he was right."

"I guess. That was pretty incompetent, if I do say so myself."

"But I've got all the info we need!" the youth returned brightly, "and I'm in one piece, thanks to you."

"You're welcome," Mara said, covering her concern with a more sarcastic tone than usual.

There was a pause as the two looked at one another, and then Mara frowned hideously, "Skywalker, what is that smell?"

Luke lifted a pudding covered sleeve, took a deep whiff, and gagged openly, "Eel, I'm afraid. It's eel pudding."

"Eel?" Jade shrieked in horror.

"They are Barabel ..."

"Yuck! Let's get back to my ship so you can get those clothes off, because bluntly, you look, and smell disgusting. And don't expect me to help."

One hour later, Luke stepped out of the refresher on Mara's ship, the _Jade Fire_ , wearing fresh clothes, and wandered into the cockpit.

Mara glanced at him and grinned, "Better?"

"Much," Luke said gratefully. "And thanks for having some uniforms in my size."

"Your sister's idea. She seemed to have a premonition you'd need some new clothes."

The _Fire_ made the leap into hyperspace and Luke sat down on the co-pilot chair, his brow furrowed, his brain whirling busily.

"So, Mara?"

"Yes?"

"Will you marry me?"

A long pause. Then ...

"Yes."

 _Author Note: Did anyone catch the_ Finding Nemo _quotes?_


	14. Chapter 14

_Author Note: The Nemo quotes were "You mean ... you don't like me?" (by Dory)_

 _Followed by: "It's not that I don't like you. It's because I like you that I don't want to be around you. It's complicated ..." (Marlin). I'm not sure I got those quotes word for word though._

 _In other news, I'm going to make this the last chapter for now, anyway. And I'm zooming forward in time. Luke and Mara got married. Seven years pass. For the first time ever, I'm including Ben Solo as a character in one of my fanfics._

 _Organa-Solo residence_

 _Imperial Palace_

 _Imperial City_

 _Coruscant_

 _7 years later_

Leia Organa Solo stared dubiously into the refresher mirror and grimaced at her reflection. She didn't look too good.

Her sister-in-law, Mara Jade Skywalker, concurred. The first thing Mara said when Leia left the refresher and walked into her office was, "Oh Leia, you look terrible! I thought you were feeling better."

Leia chuckled a little. Trust Mara to speak the truth, even if it wasn't that flattering.

"Mostly I am doing better," she responded with a sigh as she dropped onto a comfortable couch and put her feet up on a nearby stool, "but today has been overly busy getting ready for the birthday party and I feel, bluntly, awful. And I look awful too, I know."

Her nephew, 7 months old Biggs Skywalker, apparently agreed because the small face turned away from his mother's chest to gaze with rapt interest at his aunt's greenish face.

"Hey, buddy," Mara said with a smile, "get back to work here. I haven't got all day."

Reluctantly, the redheaded infant turned back to the most important business of life, even as his aunt Leia chuckled in amusement, "I remember when Ben would do that ..."

"Yes, all three of our children have been this way starting at six months," Mara agreed, "Suddenly anyone in visual range is way more interesting than eating."

Leia nodded, yawned, then began levering herself slowly to her feet. After the birth of her son, Ben, 6 years previously, she and Han had experienced years of secondary infertility. Now she was pregnant again with not one but two babies. It was a blessing, she reminded herself fervently, a blessing! Even if she felt terrible.

" _What exactly do you think you are doing?"_ Luke's telepathic voice suddenly sounded in her mind.

" _Um, coming out to help with the party_?" she returned in a puzzled way.

" _Well, don't. Han is here, Father is here, Lando Calrissian is here, even Boba Fett is here. We can handle 20 miscellaneous children for the rest of the evening. I know you feel terrible. Just stay in there with Mara. I know she's tired too after helping with the birthday preparation. We've got this_."

" _You've got this?"_ Mara chimed in. " _You, a bunch of males, have full control over a couple dozen little kids hyped up on sugar and presents?"_

 _"I promise you both that we will keep the small people alive."_

 _"It's not the alive part that worries me,"_ Mara returned drily. " _It's the reality that Leia may emerge from this room and find icing on the ceilings and plushies stopping up the refreshers and jello on the couches ..."_

" _We'll keep close tabs on everyone,"_ her husband returned firmly.

" _Do you know where the Terror is right now?"_ Mara inquired suspiciously.

" _Shmi is sitting at a table eating a cupcake with Kelsi, Mara. We're doing fine."_

The two women exchanged thoughtful glances and then Leia answered for both of them, _"Thanks, Luke, we'll just rest here then."_

Leia leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes with a relieved smile. She really did feel disgusting, and entertaining a horde of kids was not appealing at the moment.

"The Terror?" she asked idly.

"We've named Shmi 'The Terror' for the time being," Mara explained with a chuckle, "because she _is_ a terror. I hope that once she is 4, she'll calm down. But now she climbs everything and jumps off of everything and it is exhausting and scary at times."

"Ben used to be like that, and Kelsi as well, right?"

"Kelsi definitely wasn't as crazy as Shmi. I remember that Ben was incredibly active at age 3. It's a relief to know that by age 6, the kids mostly calm down."

Leia frowned slightly, "I guess."

Mara shot her sister-in-law a worried look, "Is something wrong with Ben?"

Leia hesitated, even as her eyes filled with tears. Stupid hormones.

"I don't know, honestly," she said, her voice cracking just a bit. "Something weird is going on with him. I was hoping maybe I could talk to you and Luke about it soon, to get your advice."

"Absolutely," Mara said with concern, "Whenever you want."

"The sooner the better, then."

/

Four hours later, Leia emerged from the office, where she had fallen asleep on the surprising comfortable couch, and rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

To her delight and genuine astonishment, the main living area looked positively tidy, though it was vaguely suspicious that a chair had been moved strategically over one meter. It was likely that some unpleasant mess lurked underneath it.

The room was filled with a variety of random family members and friends – her husband, her brother, her sister-in-law, her biological father, her parents Bail and Breha, Ahsoka Tano, and even, oddly enough, the bounty hunter Boba Fett.

"So when I said soon, you took it to heart," Leia said with genuine appreciation.

"Absolutely," Luke said, stepping forward to give his twin a firm hug, "Han said something was really bothering you."

"Where is Ben?"

"He's asleep," Han assured her, "and so are Luke and Mara's kids. Threepio is watching over them in their apartment."

"Ok, let's get to it," Leia said, sitting down carefully on a couch. She seemed to spend a lot of time sitting these days, but 17 week gestation twins continued to exhaust her, and she already showed quite a babies bump. She'd be as big as a fat shaak by the end of the pregnancy, no doubt.

"So it all starts with me," Han said gravely. "Six weeks ago, Leia was asleep because you know, that's all she really does these days ..."

"Hey!"

"And Ben and I were having some male bonding time watching the Galactic Shockball Tournament. The end was kind of boring because the Corellian team wasn't doing well and I fell asleep on the couch," Han explained, rather nervously.

There was a pause.

"And?" Breha Organa asked courteously.

"And while I was asleep, Ben grabbed the remote and started pushing buttons, and found the holomovie, _Darth Vader Destroys Everything._ "

Luke and Anakin exchanged puzzled glances.

" _Darth Vader Destroys Everything?"_ Anakin demanded. "What kind of stupid title is that?"

"A stupid one, for a stupid movie," Leia responded. "It's really awful..."

"I _am_ sorry, Leia," Han said, his face one of abject guilt. "I can't believe I let Ben watch it ..."

"Is it very violent?" Luke asked in concern, even as Anakin bowed his head with a mixture of worry and shame.

"No, not really," Leia responded. "I mean, yes, it is violent but it was a Q movie, not well funded. The violence is over the top but not particularly gory. 'Darth Vader' is played by that painfully rotten actor Quiltran Kidro and he is truly ridiculous – very awkward and stilted and unrealistic looking. The lightsaber looked like a sparkler on steroids. The plot, such as it is, consists of him going from one planet to another chopping people and animals in half and/or blowing things up. The problem is ..."

"The problem is that I told Ben about Darth Vader being his grandfather," Fett continued. "Just because I thought he'd be interested. I mean, I told him that Grandpa Anakin used to be Darth Vader."

"And Ben, who is too young to have any kind of critical thinking about movies, thought that was very cool," Leia said regretfully.

"It's hardly 'cool'," Anakin muttered.

"I know that," Leia said, "but Ben latched onto the idea that Darth Vader is indeed very exciting and wonderful, and furthermore, in his 6 year old brain, you aren't Darth Vader. He thinks somehow you and Darth Vader are two different people who are both my father."

Luke lifted a puzzled eyebrow, "And how does that work, exactly?"

She sighed, "Well, he pointed out that I also call Bail my father, so in his mind I have three fathers. R2D2 has been spending the night with Ben fairly often since Ben is going through a season of being afraid of the dark, and recently R2 showed me this ... this role play in Ben's room before bed. And I admit that Han and I are seriously disturbed. He seems to be getting really weird about this whole thing with Darth Vader. I know kids can get peculiar but this seems ... excessive."

She gestured toward the holoscreen with the Force, and it lowered from the ceiling to hang vertically so that the entire assembly could watch it. With another flick, a video appeared.

The image showed dark haired, dark eyed Ben Solo, all of 6 years old, sitting on the floor, surrounded by plushies of various colors, sizes, and species.

In his hand, Ben held a Darth Vader plushie.

"You got him a Darth Vader plushie?" Mara demanded in bewilderment.

"That was from me," Fett said, rather sunnily given the circumstances, then wilted just slightly at the condemning gazes around him. "He was just so excited about Vader, you know?"

Attention turned back to the screen.

"Show me again," the boy said, his voice pitched absurdly low, "the power of the darkness. I will let nothing stand in our way. Show me, Grandfather, and I will finish what you've started!"

With this, the Darth Vader plushie leaped forward in Ben's hand and began attacking the various plushies on the floor with its red, fuzzy lightsaber.

"Death to you, rancor plushie! Death to you, Hutt! I will kill you all, Twi'leks!"

The boy stood up now in the holo and bounced enthusiastically toward the window, out of which was the darkening sky of Imperial City.

"I will destroy you, sun and moon and stars! All of the galaxy will fall by the might of my powerful lightsaber! I, Kylo Ren, grandson of Darth Vader, will destroy _everything_!"

The holo switched off, and the various adults gazed at one another in dismay.

"So whaddya think," Han asked in a falsely light tone. "Just usual 6 year old oddity, right?"

"Um, I don't think it's usual, exactly," Ahsoka said worriedly.

Bail shook his head, "I find his focus on galactic destruction ... disturbing."

"Kylo Ren?" Breha inquired in a confused tone.

Leia shrugged helplessly, "I don't know what that's about. He made the name up a few weeks ago and wants us to call him Kylo sometimes."

There was a long pause and then Anakin spoke up, "I will deal with it."

Leia's eyes narrowed, "You? What will you do? And how?"

"Leave that to me," her biological father intoned firmly.

/-

 _One day later_

 _Ben Solo's room_

"Bam, boom, kerflooie! Death to the Rebellion! Death to the Hutts! Death to _everything_!"

The door slid open and Ben looked up, expecting his father to step into the room with a rootie soda float for their joint eating pleasure.

Instead, instead ...

With a squeal of stunned delight, Ben Solo leaped to his feet and rushed over to the two meter cyborg who stood at the door of his room, his mechanical breathing echoing ominously off the walls.

"Grandfather, Grandfather!" the boy said in a rapturous tone, even as he threw his arms around Vader's right leg, clinging to it like a leech, "I'm so happy you are here! So happy!"

"It is most excellent to see you as well, Grandson Ben," Anakin said, his speech patterns reverting to their former formality, "It is a great pleasure to join you in your plushie stories."

"Oh Grandfather, will you play with me?" Ben asked excitedly, "Mom is sick and tired because she'd got babies in her tummy, and Daddy ... I don't think Daddy likes you very much."

This last phrase was said in a whisper, and Anakin was quick to respond by placing a large gauntleted hand on his grandson's head, "Your father and I are at peace, young Ben. Do not be distressed."

The boy smiled and grabbed Vader's hand, hauling him over to the largest space on the floor. Anakin was pulled firmly to the floor, where he found himself surrounded by plushies.

"Ok, you take ... uh ... your plushie, and kill everything!" Ben said excitedly.

Anakin took a deep breath (the respirations were fake as he no longer required breathing assistance) even as he gestured with the Force toward the door.

A tub floated into the room and upended itself, resulting in a pile of new plushies on the carpet in addition to Ben's own. The boy's eyes widened in surprise and delight and awe even as Anakin used the Force to arrange the plushies – Hutts, Tortugas, loth cats, shaaks, banthas, rancors, even colo claw fish – in groups, clowders, herds, flocks, and schools as appropriate.

"No, young Ben," the dark suited cyborg said gravely, "the days of destruction are past, and now we must bind the galaxy back together again."

"What does 'bind' mean?" Ben asked, his eyes bewildered.

"We must bind ... we must help people, and Tortugas and ... er ... rancors. And fish. And banthas. We must help them all."

"We must?"

"Yes, because ... er ... some will die if not tended to properly."

The small lip quivered just slightly, "You aren't going to chop anything in half, Grandfather?"

"No, Ben, I love rancors. And fish. And Twi'leks. And ... and ..." Anakin winced, then continued with determination, "Hutts. Yes, I love them all. And my job, and yours too, is to help them be happy and healthy and to live honest and joyful lives. Can you assist me with that?"

Ben's eyes were as wide as plates now, "You mean, you really don't want to blow anything up, or kill anything?"

Now Anakin's eyes filled with hidden tears, "No, little one, I want the galaxy to heal. In any way I can, I want the galaxy to heal from my actions."

Ben blinked, looked at the plushies, and reached out a soft hand to brush some lint off of one of the banthas.

He smiled shyly and grabbed Anakin's right hand with his own, "Ok, Grandfather, we'll do it together, then."

 _The End_

 _Author Note: This chapter turned out not as funny but hey, it is what it is. Again, thank you so much for reading and reviewing. Many thanks to my husband who edited this fanfic and added wonderful additions. Our youngest child is currently nicknamed "The Terror" and one of our older daughters randomly started calling herself "Carson" on occasion, which is not even close to her name. A few years ago, another firmly announced that he was a monster named 'Gurgaly.' Kids_ are _weird, in a wonderful way._


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